The Darkest Night
by Beyond the Pages
Summary: Isabella turns 15, and goes on a journey to stop a monster from terrorizing her village. Adventure, mystery, fantastical characters and a bitchy faerie queen await in this remake of the classic tale of Beauty and the Beast. Complete!
1. Dreams

Chapter 1

The sound of the shutters slamming against the outside wall woke me. A chill breeze swept through the open window. I shivered.

I threw back the covers and got out of bed, my plain white nightgown falling to my ankles. I shivered again, watching for a moment with fascination as the wind blew the curtains out. I had thought that Mother would have closed my window before she went to bed. Then again, ever since her illness, she didn't do a whole lot of moving around.

I went to the window and paused, breathing the chill air. It was late autumn, and nearly all the leaves had fallen from the trees in our village. The crops were finished, and Father had hired three strapping young men to help him take it in. Henry, Alex and Daniel were nice men, but I didn't enjoy having to feed them. They ate too much, and they were loud and boisterous, causing a disruption to our household. If only Father was able to bring in the harvest on his own. But he was helping out our neighbors with theirs, free of charge. We could afford to hire farmhands; the Walkers couldn't.

I reached my arms out of the window, reaching for the shutters as the cold wind bit at me thin nightgown. I could almost taste winter in its hands, and I hoped that we would be able to bring in the harvest before the snow fell.

_Isabella…_

I peered through the dark, my hands still on the shutters, and my heart almost stopped.

Standing in the middle of the road, directly across from the house, was a creature the likes of which I had never seen nor heard of. It stood like a man, but it was covered in the fur of a beast. As I watched, it turned its gaze away from the house and looked directly at me with cold, human-like yellow eyes.

I slammed the shutters closed, locking them immediately. My hands shook with fear. Then I closed the curtains and ran to my bed, covering my head with the blanket. I stayed like that until morning, shivering and unable to get back to sleep, those cold, intelligent eyes visiting me every time I closed my eyes.


	2. The Twins

Chapter 2

Dawn was barely approaching when I woke. I had been dreaming. I knew not what the dream had been about; only that I had been frightened, and that a piercing yellow gaze belonging to a monster had stared at me with the intensity and intelligence of a human being.

My room was dark; the shutters had obviously been closed. Mother had probably done that while I slept. Then I remembered what the dream had been about, and realized that it had not been a dream at all, but a nightmare - a living nightmare that I didn't want to remember but I had not choice in the matter. The cold, yellow gaze of the monster chilled me to the bone as I remembered how the creature had looked at me. I tried to describe the expression on its face as I stood and readied myself for the coming day.

Mother would still be asleep, as would the twins. I knew not to wake Mother, but the twins could and should be woken. If I didn't wake them, then when they got in trouble, they would blame me, and Mother would be disappointed. She would never say outright that she was disappointed, but she would be. I was always able to tell when she was disappointed with me. It was like a sixth sense. I could tell how people felt just by looking at them.

I stood and dressed, knowing that if I didn't, Father would give me a lecture when he got home. He was helping the Walkers bring in their harvest, as Mr. Walker was out of commission because of a bad back. Father had hired three strapping young men to help with our harvest, as Mother was too ill to do much of anything, the twins were lazy, and I was never a very physically strong person.

I opened my window and threw the shutters open as well, breathing in the crisp fall morning air. I gazed across the street, half expecting there to be a yellow-eyed monster staring back at me. But there was nothing but the neighbor's shrubbery.

I slipped on a pair of stockings - it was cold in mid-October - and left my room, being sure to make my bed before I did. Father preferred things to be immaculate. He hated a house that was disorderly. "If someone walks into your home and finds it disorderly, then they naturally assume that you are disorderly, instead of them having caught you at a bad time," He always said. I agreed with him, but the twins did not.

Ilana and Bryanne were twins. Both had blond hair and blue eyes. They were adopted, but Mother and Father loved them just as much as they loved me. Originally, when Mother and Father had first married, they had had difficulty having children, so when Ilana and Bryanne's mother died when they were but two years old, and their father soon after from the pox, Mother and Father adopted them, and have loved them as their own ever since. Then I arrived a year later, and have been nursemaid to them since I was twelve, when Mother took ill and couldn't do anything around the house.

I didn't see why I should have to do all the work around the house- I was the youngest child, therefore someone else should have been taking care of me. But Ilana and Bryanne were lazy girls, having been spoiled the first few years of their lives (Mother and Father had been delighted with finally having children, and had made the mistake of spoiling them in their delight), so they hadn't bothered to help when Mother took ill.

Of course, they were just as worried as Father and I were, but their form of helping was more like telling Mother stories to make her laugh, and acting out plays for her amusement, which were great fun for both twins as well as Mother. But I was left to do the actual work. The twins wanted to do the fun stuff, like licking the spoon after I make the dough for cookies. But when it came to actually working, they would run off and make daisy chains or play at being princesses - and they had been fifteen years old, too!

At first, I had been angry. Then I had come to the realization that being the more responsible one put me in a higher regard with the young men in the village, and that made the tasks facing me more bearable. After all, a girl deserves a little attention.

I left my room, leaving the door open so it didn't become stuffy, and headed for the twins' room. They were both still asleep, their window and shutters closed, as well as their door. It amazed me that they could sleep so soundly. If a hurricane had blown through, they both of them could have slept through the whole ordeal. The only thing that could wake them was either, "Your clothes are being ripped to shreds!" or the removal of their blankets. The latter was always easiest, and often the most amusing, because it gave me the chance to find new and creative hiding places for their blankets. This game made them wake up and it forced them to become alert while they searched for their blankets. And it made me feel like I was getting a little bit of revenge for all the hard work I had had to do in their places.

I entered their room without knocking and immediately opened their window and shutters. Both girls simultaneously shivered and covered themselves with their blankets.

In one swift movement, I had removed both blankets, and exited the room, dragging the things behind me. I carried them out to the barn, and up the hayloft. Depositing the blankets underneath a pile of straw, I re-entered the house via the kitchen door in time to see Ilana enter the room, yawning and shivering. She was always up first. Then Bryanne would follow suit, usually after about fifteen minutes or so.

"Where's my blanket?" She mumbled, as she did every day.

"Go find it," I replied shortly, beginning the fire in the woodstove. "And while you're at it, go and fetch a basket of eggs so I can fry us up some omelettes."

She nodded and yawned again, taking the basket without opening her eyes and then walked into the wall beside the door.

"To your left," I instructed. She moved to her right and hit the wall again. "Your other left," I corrected. She got it right that time, and left via the same door I had come through.

It was at that moment when Bryanne finally woke up. I was slightly surprised by her being up so early; it usually took her an extra twenty minutes, time in which I had to call her name three times and threaten to douse her and her clothes in frigid water before she actually got up.

"Good morning," I said in a neutral tone. "Do you fancy and omelette?"

"Yeah, fine, sure, whatever," she muttered, waving her hand and sitting down. "Where's my blanket?"

"Where I put it," I replied evasively. "Why don't you douse your face in some cold water to wake yourself and go look for it? Then you can make your bed before Father gets home, and even perhaps before Mother wakes up. You can surprise them both."

She seemed to be thinking about this for a minute - either that or she momentarily fell unconscious - and then said, "No, thanks. I think I'll just go lie down without one."

"The point is not for you to lie down and go back to sleep," I said, "the point is for you to get up and help around the farm before Father gets home so he and the farmhands don't have to do the work. All of them will appreciate it, you can be sure. It would be the best present ever."

"Why does Father need a present?" She asked, yawning and closing her eyes sleepily.

I turned away from the fire as the cinders flew at my face. "Because it's his birthday tomorrow, and his and Mother's anniversary next week, that's why," I retorted, my hands on my hips and my face smudged with soot.

"You look like a cinder block, or something," Bryanne commented idly, not really understanding what she was saying. "Or a Cinderella of some sort."

"Hah, hah, very funny," I said sarcastically. "Now get dressed before Mother wakes. You look like you just got out of bed."

"I _did_ just get out of bed," she muttered as she stood and left the room.

"And don't forget to close your window before you undress!" I called back, knowing she was often very absent-minded. Not for the first time that morning, I wondered why in the world I bothered at all with the twins.


	3. Preparing for the Celebration

Chapter 3

Mother entered the kitchen from her and Father's bedroom, and that Ilana came back into the house, dragging her blanket behind her.

"The eggs?" I said. She produced the basket from underneath her blanket, which she had draped over her arm. I took the basket from her.

Mother stood. "Let me do that, Izzy," she said, calling me by my childhood nickname. "You need to wash your face and get ready for the day. Today's the day that you get to wear your first shawl, remember?"

"I had forgot," I said, and it was true that I had.

In our village, and indeed in our whole kingdom, the first day of a girl's fifteenth year, whether she be technically fifteen or not, is the first day when she wears her ceremonial shawl, signaling to the eligible young men that she was ready for marriage. I had been ready myself for some time already, having bled once a month since I was twelve. But tradition stated that, whether a girl had bled or not by fifteen, then she had to wear the shawl. If a girl received an offer before you bled, then such a situation would be explained to the man she accepted, and he would therefore postpone the marriage itself until bleeding commenced. An excuse of some sort would be made to spare the girl any embarrassment. This whole process was done to spare the girl any feelings of disappointment or embarrassment should her friends and peers begin to bleed before her. A late bloomer was often ridiculed, especially in our village, which prized its eligible girls.

Once, a wife for a king-to-be was even chosen here in our village. But that had been at least a hundred years ago, and there was only one person in the whole village left who had actually been there.

"Go, and make ready," Mother said. She kissed my cheek, and as she did, she hugged me and whispered in my ear, "You can use my things."

Tears came to my eyes as I squeezed her tight. Mother had not allowed either of the twins to use her things when they had had their time, mostly because she had been sick at the time when it had happened, and so their coming out had not been celebrated as it should have been. But I knew the real reason. Mother would never forget something like this.

In a girl's home, the Mother most often passed on her things that she wore when she had her coming out, and therefore the daughter kept them, and passed them on to her daughter, and so on and so forth. And if a woman didn't have a daughter, she would give them to the woman her son married to pass on to his daughter. That girl usually was very lucky, because then she received the things from two women, instead of just one.

But the reason I think Mother let me have her things is because I was her blood. I am her blood. The twins were adopted, but I was born into this family, and with that came a little extra privilege.

I went into Mother's room, and to her bed, underneath which I knew she kept her things. I knew that, normally, a girl's first shawl was bought, or made especially for the occasion. But in the case when a mother's had been preserved as well as Mother's had, then it was passed on to the daughter. And Mother's shawl was beautiful.

I pulled Mother's strong box out from under her bed. It was a simple box, but it was carved from mahogany. Mother's great-great-grandfather had made it for his wife after they were engaged. It was very old, but still in good condition. It had been used for three generations of women, its only purpose to hold the ceremonial shawl and all the jewelry and makeup that went along with it.

I took the box into my room, being careful not to let either of the twins see. They would eventually realize that Mother had chosen me to receive her things from when she had her coming out, but I wanted to prolong that argument for a little while longer. Mother's shawl was on top. It was a bright green, and it set off my reddish-blond hair perfectly, matching my emerald green eyes. The shawl also had gold and silver tassels all along the edge, framing it. It was beautiful and awe-inspiring.

Next, underneath the shawl, was a dress made entirely of while fabric, and embroidered all over with pictures of faeries and tree spirits and mermaids and the like. It was from before the time of the box, and had been wrapped in bay leaves to keep it fresh. The color of the gold embroidery thread and the snow-whiteness of the fabric was just as vibrant as a new gown. It was breathtaking.

Underneath the dress was a pair of matching slippers. Except these were made of glass. I knew not how the glass maker had gotten them in that shape, nor how he had made it so that the filaments of gold that threaded through the slippers caught the light just so. But the glass slippers were the most beautiful pieces of the ensemble, and I could already picture Bryanne's jealousy when she saw them. I would have to hide them under my skirts.

Mother had assured me, when she first spoke about my coming out on the first day that I bled, that these slippers - slippers which she had been reluctant to even speak of, and was unwilling to show me - would hold against the weight of a giant. She swore that the faeries had spoken words over them to keep them strong forever. And when she said forever, she meant forever.

Underneath all of that was an assortment of jewels: numerous pairs of earrings, some of which dangled to my shoulders, and dainty lockets, each with a special carving; a circlet of asters made of lapis, and a silver chain upon which hung an aster, also made of lapis. They were incredible. There was also an assortment of rings, but I had never been one to wear and rings.

I wasn't supposed to wear all the jewelry - that would be gaudy. But I was supposed to choose which ones I liked best. I knew which ones Mother would have chosen for me - the crown and necklace of asters, and the glass earrings, which were simply dangling earrings made of glass. Those were also the ones I would have chosen, and did choose.

I washed with Mother's perfumed soaps, the ones she used only on special occasions, and fished the dress out of the strong box. It was a perfect fit, and it fluttered down around me like lace. It was soft, and comfortable. In short, it was perfect. There was a ribbon made of a golden-colored fabric that tied up at the back in a bow. I tied it the best I could and slipped into the slippers, thinking that they might break. I stood, and they held. It was just as Mother had said.

I wrapped the shawl around my shoulders, just as it should be wrapped. Mother had coached me many a time on how to wrap the shawl, demonstrating with a piece of ordinary linen.

"First you fold it in half," Mother would say, "making sure that the opposite corners touch. See?" She would hold it up for me, and I would mimic her with my own piece of square linen. The result was the shape of a triangle.

Then Mother would wrap the linen around my shoulders, and take out one of her pins, the kind she used on Sundays, and she would pin the corners together. "That is how you wear it," she would say. Sometimes, after she had shown me this, I would take the shawl and wrap it around my head, pretending to be an old granny. And then Mother would laugh and laugh, and tell me that I was an idiot and didn't deserve to wear the shawl. But it was all in good fun. It was shortly after this that Mother became sick.

I finished wrapping the shawl, and used Mother's special pin, the one that was in the box, and pinned it to the shawl, exactly as she had shown me so many times. Then I set to putting on the makeup - for which Mother came in and helped me, because I had never before worn makeup, and she was concerned that I would put too much of it on and make myself look like the kind of clown that shows up on fair days, dancing around and spraying water in people faces from his bow tie.

Mother came in and fussed over my hair, adjusting the shawl and re-tying the ribbon on my dress, until I was positively vexed with her. I didn't want adjustments made, but she insisted, so I let her. Then she applied the makeup on my face, instructing me on how to do it so that next time I could do it myself.

Finally, she showed me which places to spray the perfume - my wrists and my neck - and how much, and she let me do that myself. I managed that at least, and was finally finished getting ready.

Mother led me by the hand into her room, where the only mirror in the house was, and she let me look at myself. I had been transformed from an ugly, carrot-headed, freckled-faced teenager to a young woman, sure of herself and her standing in the world, and filled with confidence and eagerness at rising above the rest and being noticed. I hadn't realized there was that kind of confidence in me until that moment. I hugged Mother.

"I'm beautiful," I whispered into her shoulder.

"I always knew it," she said. It was her way of saying, I told you so. I knew she meant it kindly, though, and I hugged her all the more for it.

When I exited Mother's room with her, Ilana and Bryanne were standing in the kitchen, talking in hushed voices. The moment I entered the room, Bryanne let out a cry of indignation, and Mother had to make a great effort to calm her down.

It's not fair!" Bryanne declared, stomping her foot exactly as I had seen her do in my imagination when I saw Mother's ensemble on me.

"I would have let you, too," Mother said, "but it never would have fit you, and neither white nor green does anything for your complexion. Why do you think I bought both you girls new dresses and shawls when your time came? Because I gave you the option to choose for yourselves, and because that way you would look beautiful in them, and you did look beautiful in them. Both white and green would have made you both look washed out."

"But, Mother!" Ilana protested, following Bryanne's lead.

"But, nothing," Mother said, taking charge like I hadn't seen her do in years. "I don't want to hear another word of complaint about this ever again, do you understand? This is Isabella's day, and I won't let you two spoil it for her. She didn't complain when you two got new dresses, and shoes, and jewelry, and everything else, did she?"

They both hung their heads. "No, Mother," the mumbled in unison.

"I'm not going to hear any more complaining about this, am I?" She asked. The question didn't require an answer, but I knew she wanted to hear the two of them say it. "Am I?"

"No," they both mumbled.

"Good."

Bryanne sent me a look of pure venom, and, after glancing at what Bryanne was doing, Ilana followed suit, although she and I both knew she would never act on her feelings like Bryanne would.

"Now both of you go to your rooms and freshen up," Mother instructed. "The moment your father comes home and has a chance to clean himself up, we're leaving for the celebration, so you better hurry now, because it only takes him a few minutes to wash and change. I'm sure you're going to want more time than that."

They both nodded, and left. Bryanne, shouldered me violently on her way out, and Ilana, in a moment of sincerity, hugged me and wished me congratulations.

Mother smiled at me, and assured me that everything would be all right. I smiled back at her, and let her go to her room to freshen up as well. Then, after a few minutes more, I returned to my own room and stared out my window at the forest, which was only a few steps from our house. As I did, I recalled my dream from the previous night, and for a moment, I thought I saw a pair of golden-yellow eyes staring at me from within the trees, holding the intensity and intelligence of a human being. But then I blinked, and the vision was gone. Or had it really never been there?


	4. Fifteen

Chapter 4

As soon as Father came home and had a chance to clean himself and dress himself in some proper attire, the whole family set off for the celebration. Every year, on the first day of the year, instead of celebrating the New Year like other cultures, ours celebrated the coming out of the young men and women.

The tradition was mostly for the women, and since the young men usually left before their fifteenth birthday (making the pickings very slim), the girls were usually the only ones left to celebrate. And celebrate they did. I had been there only once before, when Ilana and Bryanne had had their coming out, and it had been spectacular, although everyone had ignored me and focused on Ilana and Bryanne, understandably because it had been their coming out, not mine.

But not it was my chance, and I was filled with nervous excitement. So much so, that I completely forgot about the yellow-eyed creature from the night before. Ilana was excited for me, but Bryanne was sullen and silent, pouting that she hadn't gotten to wear Mother's things when she had had her coming out. I knew that she would have preferred to wear Mother's things, but looking back on it, I remembered how she had gloated when Mother had given her and Ilana money to buy themselves their attire, and I smiled to myself. I deserved this chance to celebrate me being me.

The moment we reached the village square, where the celebration was to take place, my two friends, Freya and Naveen, came up to me.

Naveen was dark-haired with chocolate brown skin and twinkling brown eyes. She was often very solemn, but her eyes were always holding a hidden secret, and she often wore a supercilious smile on her face, making you think that you were going to be the victim of some childish prank any moment. She was always looking to defend you if someone put you down, and was often intimidating, especially to the young men. But that didn't deter many of them from asking her out on a date, or from flirting with her. As her family was the only dark-skinned one in the village, she was considered to be an exotic beauty, and was much sought after by the young men. She wore an orange, pink and yellow colored gown, thrown across her shoulder in an exotic manner, setting off her skin and making her dress skin in the firelight. I didn't know how she had gotten a dress made of fabric that melted three colors together the way her dress had, but it looked beautiful on her. On her feet was a pair of dainty pointed shoes, seeming to be made of gold fabric. She had a tiny diamond piercing her nose, and dangling hoop earrings on her ears. Her fingers were covered with rings, at least two on each finger, and on her wrists were numerous bangles. Around her neck was a simple golden rope of a chain, and a second necklace with a strange symbol on it, presumably from her homeland. Around her shoulders was a shawl, made of the same material as her dress, so that it looked like it was part of her dress.

Freya, on the other hand, was lively and spirited. She had blond hair, of a similar hue to the twins' hair, except slightly more defined, and emerald green eyes like mine. Like her name suggested, she was almost goddess-like, in her beauty. Freya was always considered the most beautiful girl in the village, but such complements as she received, and such a high regard from the young men, did not make her vain. On the contrary, she was an ever-humble person, and always on the look-out for a good trait in others, while sometimes putting herself down to make others feel better. Her porcelain skin shone in the dimming light, and both girls' cheeks were red with excitement. She wore a pale blue dress that hung down to her ankles, and a pair of silver-colored sandals. Once again, I knew not where the fabric had come from, or how the cobbler had gotten it that hue, but it was beautiful. Circling her head was an elaborate head-covering, golden-colored and acting like a veil, so that strands of gold hung down her forehead, partially concealing her eyes and giving her an air of mystery and enchantment. She wore no rings, but had a simple bracelet around her writs, with a ring attached to it by a chain. I had seen a similar bracelet the last time the traders had come to our village, and knew it to be called a "slave bracelet". Perhaps this was because the ring was attached to the bracelet by a slender silver chain, and was therefore a "slave" to the bracelet. Freya also wore a slender silver necklace around her neck, with a green gem at the end. For some reason, though the gem didn't go with the rest of the ensemble, it seemed to fit, because it matched her eyes, and set them off to a tee. Freya also wore a pale blue shawl, covered in a silver fringe.

I hugged my friends fiercely, glad they were here with me. It was their coming-out, too, and I knew we were all glad to be going through it together. It would have been terrifying if one of us had to go it alone.

"Come on," Freya said, her voice loud because of all the excitement. She grabbed my hand and started to pull me towards the fire. I wondered if she had drunk any ale yet. Often at parties, she had a tendency to sneak herself some, and it made her easily excitable and goofy.

I turned to look at Mother for permission as I was half-dragged towards the bonfire. Mother smiled and nodded, and I took off after my two friends.

"You're going to love this," Naveen said, her accent making her voice slightly husky, but in an attractive way. Some said she sounded as though she was always filled with emotion, but I thought it made her sound refined, and I made an effort to tell her so because she was often ridiculed behind her back about it.

"Love what?" I asked, allowing myself to be pulled along.

"Guess who wants to dance with you?" Freya asked in a singsong voice, her eyes filled with teasing. I pulled out of their grip.

"You didn't," I said, knowing exactly what she meant, and hoping against hope that they hadn't.

"Of course we didn't," Naveen said. "Freya did."

"Freya!" I turned to her, my eyes pleading. "Tell me you're joking."

"When have I ever joked about boys?" She demanded, and smiling, she grabbed my hand again. I wrestled it away from her.

"Please, Freya, you know that I don't want Duncan to know that I like him."

Duncan was Naveen's older brother, and he was extremely handsome. At least, I thought he was. Naveen thought my crush was disgusting and sought out every chance to deter me from my attraction to her brother, without success.

Freya, on the other hand, sought out every chance to bring the two of us together, and therefore was the blunt of many a random insult on the part of Naveen, who was firmly against the match.

I, on the other hand, wanted to admire from afar, but never, ever, come in contact with him without Naveen nearby, because she would be there to stop anything that might start.

I liked Duncan, but was terrified of him. He was at least a foot taller than me, with the same hair, complexion and eyes as his sister. He was also three years older than me, and already a man. He was probably looking for a wife already and probably had someone in mind, other than me.

Freya grabbed my hand again and dragged me towards the fire while Naveen pulled on my other arm to prevent her from dragging me towards the fire. By the time they were done I felt like a Raggedy Ann doll and wanted to collapse.

It was at that moment, at the exact worst time for him to show up, that Duncan showed up, causing both of my friends to drop my arms from surprise, which resulted in me falling to the ground like a cripple, and by doing so making myself look like an idiot. My cheeks burned with embarrassment and I wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

"Duncan!" Freya exclaimed, fawning over him automatically as she did with every eligible young man. He wasn't fazed by it because he knew her too well, and he knew that she wasn't really all that interested in him. I just hoped he didn't know I _was_ interested in him, otherwise I really _would_ die, and then that would cause my family a lot of grief.

Naveen grabbed my by my shoulder - knowing without it being spoken that my arms were like jelly- and helped me to stand. I smiled and nodded to whatever Duncan said that was directed to me, but if called upon to remember what he said, I wouldn't have been able to say anything. I was lost in staring into his beautiful brown-black eyes that seemed to be never-ending.

It took me a full ten minutes to come out of my stupor - and that was _after_ he left.

"You are a complete dunce," Freya scolded me.

"I don't try to be one," I said meekly, knowing there was no use raising my voice because she would only raise hers louder.

"Well, you are one!" She declared in an even louder tone.

"Volume," Naveen warned, and nodded in the direction of her brother, who had turned at the sound of Freya's overly-loud voice.

I hid my face with my hand and pretended to be scratching my head. I was sure he was looking directly at me.

"Come on," Freya insisted, reaching for my hand again, "you can't hide from him forever."

"I can try," I replied, trying to wrestle myself from her iron grip. I knew not how that girl came to be so strong, but I was powerless against her. I turned to Naveen for help.

Naveen grabbed Freya's hand and one by one, pulled her fingers off of me.

"Let her be," she said, pushing Freya away. "This is something she has to decide for herself, Freya, and we can't make that decision for her."

Freya folded her arms and glared at Naveen crossly. They were always fighting about something, and seemed happiest when there was something to disagree upon. I wondered what it was that made arguing so appealing to the two of them.

Just as Freya was about to reply, and probably start a big fight with Naveen, the drums began to play, signaling that everyone, especially those who were turning fifteen, were supposed to approach the fire. I shivered, despite the warm night, and paused as I heard a wolf howl.

**AN: There it is, chapter 4. Let me know what you think! No flames, please!**


	5. The Monster Who Walks Like a Man

Chapter 5

I was filled with so much excitement that I could barely contain it all. I was officially a woman now, and all the eligible young men would be able to watch me for any signs of a good partnership. And being the fact that I didn't look like a bumbling oaf next to my friends that night, which was often how I felt, I was sure that the young men would be looking in my direction more often than usual.

The drums were silenced and everyone sat down. Freya was on one side of me, Naveen on the other. I held my friends hands. The ceremony itself wasn't a big deal; it was just the town leader introducing every newly-eligible young woman (or man) to the crowd. Then that person would stand, bow or curtsy, and then sit back down.

A few bolder young people would sometimes do something outrageous, like one young man several years ago, when Duncan had had his coming out, had pulled off his shirt and waved it around. It had been declared a scandal, and all the parents of the young women were horrified, while all the young men, including Duncan, had laughed and cheered him on, until the young man was ready to strip naked and run down the village streets. Thankfully, he had been restrained.

The town leader, Silas, stood in front of the group of young people, which consisted of myself, Naveen, Freya, and three other girls. An even number. That was a good sign. An even number often meant good luck for the rest of the year, sometimes for the whole village. At least, that was what many people in the village believed. I was undecided on the matter myself.

"Young people," Silas boomed in his deep baritone voice, "you have reached an age now where you are ready to enter the adult world. This means that you will be given more responsibility, and more privilege."

Silas went on to talk about the responsibilities of an adult woman – and not a man, since there weren't any there who were entering adulthood – and how we would need to be responsible and mature. I wondered how Ilana and Bryanne had ever been allowed to pass into adulthood.

Throughout the whole ceremony, there was something that felt odd to me. It was as though something was wrong, or out of place. I couldn't concentrate on what Silas was saying as I fought to remember what it was. It was as though I had lost all memory of what had happened before that moment.

I turned to Naveen to see if she was feeling the same as me. She was usually the most practical one. She seemed to be fine, and I knew then that it was just me. Was something wrong with me? Was I sick? I put my hand to my forehead in an attempt to see if I had a fever. Nope. I hoped that Silas thought I was just shielding my eyes from the brightness of the fire. If he thought I was tired, or bored, he would interrupt his sermon-like speech and point out how disrespectful I was being.

I couldn't wait until the celebrating began. This was so boring, I nearly fell asleep. I couldn't wait until it was over, and we could start the dancing. When would it be over?

-

Ilana was bored. This was no fun. Sure she had had her time already, but it that didn't mean she had to stay here and listen to Silas drone on and on about responsibility. She'd had to listen to it once, and it wasn't all that interesting the first time. Come, on, he repeated the same speech every year. Harvest time wasn't technically the New Year, either. Well, for her country it was, because they went by a different calendar, but that was beside the point.

Ilana looked over at her twin sister, Bryanne, and wondered why Bryanne was always so stuck up. Ilana shrugged. At that moment, she didn't really care that her sister was selfish. She just wanted to get out of there.

Ilana stood and whispered to her mother that she had forgotten something important. Before her mother could protest, she was gone, tiptoeing back to their home, on the outskirts of town, near the forest.

The forest had always been something frightening for the villagers, because no one who entered could ever leave unscathed. Except Isabella. She always used to go into the forest, to get away from Bryanne, who would incessantly mock Isabella, for no reason at all.

Ilana approached their home, the bonfire at her back. The fire was so large that, when she turned around, she could still see the flames.

Ilana faced forward again. She was almost home. Once she got there, she would climb into bed and go to sleep. She didn't mind sleeping through Isabella's coming-out party. It was boring enough the first time; she didn't want to go through it again.

Suddenly, Ilana stopped. There was someone standing in front of their house. Her breathing became irregular, and she was sure she was going to faint. Standing in front of the house – on front of Isabella's window – was a monster the likes of which no one had ever seen nor heard of. It stood like a man, but it was covered in fur, like a beast. Two horns protruded from its head, and it's piercing yellow gaze held the house in check.

Ilana screamed in terror. The monster turned his gaze in her direction. For a moment, Ilana couldn't do anything. Then, with another shriek, she turned and fled back the way she had come.

-

Silas stopped speaking as the shrieks were heard throughout the village. Ilana came charging into our mist, screaming in terror, her eyes wide and full of fear. She was stopped by Duncan, who ordered her to calm down, or he would knock her about the head. For a moment, I wished I was Ilana.

But the moment she spoke, I never wanted to be her for a second.

"Monster!" She shrieked. "There's a monster in front of our house. It was looking at our house. It stood like a man, but was covered in the fur of an animal." She whirled on Silas. "You have to kill it!" She said.

I jumped up, along with Naveen and Freya. I grasped Naveen's hand, scared for my life. "What do you mean, it was looking at our house?" I asked.

"It was looking at our house!" She repeated. Then she pointed at me. "At _your_ window!"

I swallowed hard as every face turned to look at me.

Then someone else screamed. "It comes!" She shrieked, and ran.

Then everything was chaos as everyone ran for their life. Freya ran to her family, who were worried sick about her. Naveen grabbed my hand and took me with her.

"We have to get you away from here," she said, her voice thick with fear for me. "Tell me everything," she ordered.

I told her about the previous night, making sure to let her know that I had never before seen the monster until that night.

"That doesn't mean it was never there," she replied, pulling me along towards her house.

Duncan and their parents were waiting in there already. "We have to disguise you," Naveen said. She grabbed her mother's makeup. Her mother didn't protest, only took it from Naveen and proceeded to smother my face in her makeup.

"This is to cover up your freckles," Naveen said, letting me know what she was doing. My mind immediately followed her train of thought. She grabbed a piece of ordinary linen and wrapped it around my head, to hide my hair. I was the only red-head in the town, aside from my father, who had come here from another town, when he met Mother.

The moment my face was fixed enough, Naveen grabbed my hand, and we all climbed down into the cellar. Naveen's father came last, and he pulled a rug over the cellar door before closing it. I prayed the monster wouldn't think to find us.

We didn't light a candle, although there were many in the cellar with us. We were too afraid. Duncan was sitting on one side of me, Naveen on the other. I grabbed Naveen's hand, and unconsciously grabbed Duncan's as well.

We lay in the silence for a long while. Then we heard the door open. I squeezed Duncan's hand, terrified. At any other point in time, I would have been even more terrified to even be sitting this close to Duncan. But right then, it didn't matter.

There was the sound of claws tapping wood. I shuddered to think what manner of monster was inside their house. I hoped it would leave their house alone, and leave me alone. I didn't want to be ripped to shreds. I also had no idea why it was after me.

We huddled together, the five of us. We were all terrified.

Then there was the sound of the monster leaving. The door didn't close.

Then gunfire shook the house. Someone was shooting at the monster. A roar followed. Whether it was of anger or anguish, I didn't know. But I hoped to God that it was anguish.

Someone screamed, and then the monster roared again. More gunfire, and the sound of the monster's screams were fading. I hoped it died.

A long moment of silence passed, where nothing happened at all. I shivered, praying that Mother and Father were alive. I wished with all my heart that the twins lived, too, although I was disappointed that it had been Ilana who had found the monster, and not Bryanne. Bryanne would have deserved the fright.

Then, someone knocked on the cellar door. "It's gone," Silas' muffled voice said.

Naveen's father opened the cellar door, and light poured in. It was then that I realized I was holding Duncan's hand. I let it go suddenly, and my cheeks turned a bright red.

We stepped out of the cellar. Duncan helped me out, holding out his hand for me to take. I took it, but looked down, still scared, but not of the monster. Of him.

"What was that thing?" I asked Silas. He was holding a shotgun in his hands.

"I don't know," he replied. "I was hoping you could tell me."

**AN: There you are, chapter five. R&R, but no flames, please!**


	6. A 'Secret' Plan

Chapter 6

Silas gave me a hard look. He was sitting at the table in Naveen's house. My parents were there, too. Well, Mother was. Father wasn't. Father was gone.

Mother still had tears trickling down her cheeks, and she was wiping them away with her hand every so often. Bryanne was crying too, but she was also glaring angrily at me. I was sure she blamed me for Father's death, even though it had been the monster that had killed him.

Father had tried to stop the monster. He had been shooting at it with Silas. Enraged, the monster had attacked Father, and killed him while Silas kept on shooting at it. Father had died to protect me.

I was crying, and I didn't care who saw. Ilana was just sitting there, numb. Silas seemed unfazed, but I knew him well enough to know when he was feeling pain or sadness, and he was very sad for Father. But he was still determined to get to the bottom of what was going on.

"You've never seen the creature before?" He asked, narrowing his eyes at me.

I shook my head, my tears flying. "Not before last night," I said. "And I thought that was a dream."

Silas leaned back. "Someone needs to go into the forest and kill it," he said.

For some reason this idea, which was the obvious one, scared me more than the fact that the monster had killed Father. I didn't want anyone else to die.

"Make Isabella do it," Bryanne cold voice filled the room. Her words dripped with poison and she glared at me with unmasked hatred. "After all, the monster is after her, and she's the only one who can go into the forest and come back out."

Silas looked at me. It was true. I had gone into the forest previously, but not since Mother's illness. I had had to stay home and help around the house after she took ill, so I hadn't been able to run from Bryanne's insults and Ilana's ignorance.

"Is this true?" Silas asked me.

_No!!_ My mind screamed. But I could not tell a lie. "Yes," I said sadly. "It's true. I have been in the forest before. But not for many years. Not since I was twelve."

Silas seemed to be thinking about this, and Bryanne's expression became victorious. Ilana continued to stare at the tabletop as the tears rolled down her cheeks in rivers. I wondered why she was so upset. It wasn't like Father had ever shown her any special treatment. Then again, Father had never been one to show much emotion. Except disapproval, which was something all of us had received (except for Mother, of course) from us, so it baffled me as to why she would be so upset.

Ilana seemed to be lost in thought, staring at the table. I wondered if she was remembering her own father, whom she lost before I was born. I recalled what it would have been like for me if I had been in her situation. I tried to put myself in her shoes, and I realized that I would be as grief-stricken as she was if I had lost both my real parents, and then my foster Father as well. It would be like losing them all over again.

Silas was quiet for a long while. Then, after another long moment, he spoke. "Isabella," he addressed me. "I have thought about this, and I believe it should be you who goes into the forest."

Bryanne's triumphant smile could have filled a house.

"But not by yourself."

Her smile fell a little.

"Duncan will go with you, if he is willing."

My eyes went wide, and I could feel my blush rising in my cheeks. I understood what Silas meant: That I was to be the bate, and Duncan would to the deed. But the idea of spending time alone with Duncan in a possibly enchanted forest scared me half to death, and I felt faint.

Suddenly, we all heard a small voice. "I'm coming," Ilana said, not looking up from the tabletop.

Bryanne suddenly went hysterical, screaming at her sister, and ordering her to stay where she was. Grief was addling her brain, I think.

Ilana looked up at Bryanne – just looked – and Bryanne stopped. Fresh tears were coursing down her cheeks.

"No," she whispered.

In that whisper, I knew what she meant. She was saying that she didn't want to lose Ilana like she had lost Father. I realized for the first time that Bryanne had loved Father just as much as I had. I wondered for a moment at her hatred towards me, and a realization came: She hated me because I came after her, and I was blood to Mother and Father. She was not. She felt unloved – or less loved than me – because Father and Mother had allowed another baby to come into their world, even when they had Bryanne and Ilana.

I was glad that Ilana was deciding to come, but I was also worried for her. I was proud, too, though, that she was brave enough to be willing to come along.

Bryanne's expression sunk into one of defeat as Ilana nodded slowly at her. "I have to do this," she said.

Bryanne nodded, numbed by the enormity of it all.

I, on the other hand, didn't want to set foot anywhere near that forest. Sure, I would be glad to have someone else along besides Duncan, who scared me enough already. But that didn't mean I actually _wanted_ to go there.

"Please, don't make me," I said to Silas.

"Don't make her," Mother echoed. It was the first she had spoken since Father had died, aside from her shrieks and screams of despair. She had loved Father more dearly than life itself, and would have died for him just as he died for me. I knew that he had died for me, and it was something precious that I kept close to my heart.

"What other alternative do we have?" Silas asked. "We can't send a whole army, because that would be pointless. They would make too much noise, and then the monster would know that we were there. And we can't send Isabella there alone."

"Don't send her," Mother insisted.

"The monster clearly is after her, for some reason. There is no other alternative. She must lure the creature out in the open, where Duncan will shoot it." He turned to Duncan. "Are you willing?" He asked. Duncan nodded. "Good."

Naveen gave a cry of despair, for me and for her brother, and started babbling in her native tongue. I understood only a few words, because at one point she'd tried to teach me the language. She was obviously much distressed. Duncan went to her and held her until she quieted. I turned away. I had no right to be watching, even if he was hugging her in public. They were siblings. For a moment, I wished I had had a brother.

Duncan said something to her in their smooth, exotic language that made my heart skip a beat, even in this frightening time. Naveen seemed to quiet down, and then she turned to me and gave me a huge hug, the tears rolling down her cheeks.

"You leave at dawn," Silas said with finality.

_No!!_ my mind screamed. I didn't want to go anywhere near that monster. I didn't want to end up like Father.

**AN: There you are, the 6th chapter is up. R&R! No flames, please!**


	7. Saying Goodbye Without a Word

Chapter 7

The moonlight filtered through my closed shutters, a small sliver of silver light shining on my bed. I waited, with bated breath, for the telltale shadow that would mean the monster had returned, and he had come for me.

At first, I had been reluctant to sleep in my own bed. But when Naveen offered to let me stay at her house, I panicked. It was bad enough that I was going to have to be near him for possibly several days in a row. I wasn't about to spend my last night in the village before leaving with him.

I couldn't sleep. I kept imagining that the monster Ilana had described – the same monster I had seen the previous night – was watching my window again, and that thought terrified me.

I shivered, despite the fact that my window was closed, so no cold air came into the room, and despite the fact that I was wearing a heavy blanket around my shoulders. I tried to close my eyes, but every time I did, I saw the monster cold yellow gaze, felt the vibrations made by its claws on Naveen's wooden floor, and heard its unearthly roar of anger. At some point, I even imagined what had happened when Father had fought back.

I would see him, red hair shining from the fire, which had been scattered by the monster. The monster would be covered in shaggy fur, although for some reason its face was always hidden. It would roar, and Silas and Father would fire their muskets at it. Then it would attack Father, tearing him to little pieces, until I woke up screaming and in a cold sweat. Once, Mother came into my room, and we cried together, me more than her, though, because I was not only sad at having lost Father, but I was also scared because I didn't want to go anywhere near the monster, and I knew I would have to.

After several hours, I fell into a kind of stupor. I dreamed of yellow, intelligent eyes, and strangely, a sweet voice that sang in my dreams. But the words it spoke were not English. A strange peace washed over me, and I slept.

-

He was an animal. But part of him was still human. He had been completely human once. He had been born a man. But he was now a monster, cursed to walk like a man, but in the body of a beast. There was hardly any human nature left to him.

Retreating to his home; his palace beneath the earth, he went to lick his wounds clean and wait until the sun rose.

But above anything else, he was filled with remorse at having taken a life. At least that was still with him. He had promised himself, when he had first transformed, that he would not take a life; that he would control that monstrous feeling growing inside of him. And on top of that, his love, his life, his reason for breathing, hated him.

He had stayed only long enough to overhear their plans before retreating to his home, where he lowered himself into the underground river – the River of Tears – and let himself heal while listening to the echoes of weeping women, joining his sobs with theirs.

-

I woke when Ilana shook me and called my name. "Isabella!" She whispered loudly. "Wake up! We have to leave now!"

She splashed water in my face – barely anything, really. But it woke me and I sat up, spluttering. My slightly damp hair clung to my face. I was sure I looked like a drowned rat.

"What?" I demanded in a yell, angry at having been woken.

"Shh!" She shushed me. "Mother and Bryanne are still sleeping. Silas wants us to leave before they wake." Her eyes looked tired and sad. "He doesn't want them to worry."

I nodded, knowing that she was right. But I also knew that Bryanne wouldn't miss me, although Mother definitely would.

I stood and dressed, putting on a plain gown, the same one I had worn the previous day, before dressing for the celebration. My eyes were drooping, the remnants of sleep still in them.

I found it strange that Ilana was awake before me Dawn had not yet even come, so it was shocking for me to be woken by Ilana, instead of the other way around.

I left my room and entered the kitchen, where Ilana was preparing our meals for the trip. That was strange, too. Since when did she prepare anything?

"I'm packing enough for two weeks of meals for both of us," she said as I came to help her. "You'll have to carry your own pack," she added.

I nodded. I was still in shock that Ilana was up before me, let alone actually packing our meals.

I went to the where our coats hung on a row of hooks on the wall by the door. Ilana's and my cloaks were there. I grabbed them, which were both of a dark green color, and would be perfect to blend in with the forest trees. Perhaps we would be able to fool the monster, until Duncan could get a clear shot with his musket.

I handed Ilana her cloak and she handed me my pack. We both wrapped our cloaks around our shoulders and then shouldered our packs. I picked up Father's old walking stick from beside the door. We might need it for something, although for the life of me, I couldn't think of what.

We stood there, staring at each other for a moment, saying nothing. Ilana had changed. It was obvious that in the span of one evening, she had gone from a childish teenager, to a young woman.

"Duncan's waiting," she said.

"I know," I replied. There was a long pause, one in which I watched her expression very carefully. Then I said, "You've changed."

"I know."

In those two words, a bond was formed between us, one that would last forever. I knew she felt just as I did, that in those few words we had become truer sisters than we had ever been before, and would remain as such until one of us died.

Together, we left the house and headed for the forest's edge, where Duncan was waiting, hidden by the shadows. He was wearing all black clothes, to blend into the shadows, and he held a musket, which had been covered by black paint, also for camouflage.

"Are you ready?" He asked as the first rays of sunlight penetrated the lust canopy of foliage that awaited us.

Ilana and I both nodded. We simultaneously lifted our hoods, and took the other's hand. Breathing in deeply, to calm ourselves, we stepped into the forest.


	8. Cordelia

Chapter 8 – Cordelia 

We entered the forest, and stopped for a moment, taking in our surroundings. It seemed as though the whole forest had been untouched by the autumn chill that had surrounded our village for the past three weeks, sending us a message of winter being on its way. After a moment of pause, we continued on our way, Ilana and Duncan to my left. I still held Ilana's hand.

We walked for what seemed like hours, and I kept on turning my head around to see if I could still see the edge of the forest. Somehow it made me feel more secure to be able to see the edge of the forest. That is, until the edge disappeared, and I felt more afraid than ever.

I turned to glance at Ilana. She had on a stony expression, but I could see her lip quivering, possibly in fear, although with the dramatic change in her already, it was hard to tell what she was thinking and feeling. I felt as though the stepsister I'd had all my life was gone, dead even, and that Ilana was just a sister who looked like her, but with a dark past I knew nothing about.

Ilana had never spoken about her family before she came to live with my parents, which was before I was born. She was four years older than me, and should have been married already. I knew that she had had a suitor at one point, but she had never mentioned what had happened to him.

Silence surrounded us, making me nervous. Where were the birds chirping? And the squirrels chattering in the trees? I didn't even hear the faintest hum of a mosquito. Everything was dead silent, as though the all of the forest was holding its breath.

We walked upon a thick carpet of green leaves – which was strange because the leaves were supposed to be dead once they fell, and yet these were still green. And the leaves coating the branches of the trees – so that not one branch was left untouched – were also green. The color of green was so overwhelming that I had to blink and rub my eyes. I looked up and saw that the trees seemed to reach their talons to the sky. It was incredible. There was flora everywhere, but no fauna. Autumn had obviously spared this forest.

"This forest is bewitched," I heard Duncan mutter.

I had to agree with him. What else but witchcraft could have done this? After all, faeries didn't exist anymore. We in the village knew that because they had stopped giving good luck to our village when the big drought came in my grandparent's time. I had never even heard a whisper of a faerie being spotted in my life, although I'd heard plenty of tales about them.

"I don't like this," I muttered under my breath, although I was still speaking loud enough for the others to hear. "This forest has the feel of a predator, waiting for prey."

My words did not comfort Ilana, and she looked at me with fear plain on her face. She made a little whimpering sound, and I squeezed her hand in reassurance, giving her an apologetic expression. I hadn't meant to frighten her.

All of a sudden, Duncan stopped walking.

"Wha-" I began, but he hushed me quietly.

Ilana and I both stood stock still and listened. Duncan seemed to have a keener sense of hearing than either of us, but after a moment, I heard what his ears had picked up first – the faint crunch, crunch, of feet on leaves. There was someone else in the forest.

I turned my head to the right slowly, hearing it come from that side of me. As I turned my head, I saw a flash of blue color, and a child's giggle. Duncan held his musket tight, feeling sure just as Ilana and I did that it was a magical creature meaning us harm, and probably was trying to trick us into coming out by using a child's laughter as bait.

"Did you see that?" Ilana hissed in my ear. I nodded.

A strange fog began to drift down from the tops of the trees.

"Who's there?" I asked before Duncan could stop me.

The giggle came again, and I let go of Ilana's hand so I could turn and look in the direction it came from. A child's voice called out something in a language I couldn't understand.

"Igala," it giggled. I had no idea what it meant, but somehow I felt the person was teasing us.

"Show yourself," Ilana ordered, her voice squeaking just slightly.

With a flurry of veined wings, a blue-skinned creature suddenly appeared over our heads. It was about the size of a two-year old, but had a mature woman's body. She was covered in a very fine pearly film that resembled fish scales, and her floppy blue veined ears were amphibious. As the creature landed, I was able to see that she had violet eyes shaped like that of a doe's, with pupils the color of pale lilac. A smell followed her around that reminded me of a dewy spring morning. She landed lightly on a tree branch, and folded her wings behind her. She bent down towards us, and I caught a glimpse of her hands. They were webbed like a frog's. She smiled, showing pale green teeth and two pointed fangs on either side of her mouth.

"What is it?" Ilana asked with wonder and a bit of fright.

"Who cares?" Duncan said, and aimed his musket at the creature.

"Don't!" I cried, reaching for his gun and pointed it towards the ground. He glared at me. "I'm sure she's harmless," I said in explanation.

"Dobaka?" The creature asked, tilting her head like a hawk and regarding us with a strange curiosity.

"I'm afraid we don't understand you," I said, hoping that it would take the hint and either start speaking English, or leave. I felt sure it would leave.

"I know," the creature giggled in her child's voice, and fell off the tree branch, laughing. She landed lightly on her feet, using her wings to slow her fall. "It's so funny, though," she added, covering her mouth delicately, and laughing some more. She had a strange accent, and she pronounced her S's as T's.

She came up to me and I backed away. I didn't know her.

She tilted her head and regarded me with that same curiosity. "You're here to kill it, aren't you?" She asked, as though it was something that could be seen on my forehead.

"I'm not sure what you mean?"

"The Monster Who Walks Like a Man," she said. "You're here to kill it. Right?"

I nodded slowly, looking to Ilana and Duncan for support.

"Please leave," Duncan said, pushing her aside.

She seemed taken aback by this action, and hissed at him, baring her fangs and spreading her wings, appearing the part of a bloodsucker. Duncan stepped back and aimed his musket at her again.

"Stop!" I said, grabbing the musket from him, angry with him and myself. For some reason, I felt that this blue-skinned creature could help us.

The fog was very thick now, and I could barely see my hand in front of my face, let alone my companions.

"The devil take this infernal fog!" Duncan roared, and the creature hissed again.

"Don't you dare speak about the fog that way!" She declared. "It's beautiful, and peaceful, and-"

I cut her off. "Can you take some of it away so we can see what we're doing?" I asked.

"I can see fine," she replied matter-of-factly.

"But we can't," Ilana said, speaking to the creature for the first time.

The creature was silent for a long moment, possibly regarding us. Then it began to emit a high-pitched tone that was mournful and beautiful.

I wept, thinking of Father, as the fog lifted slightly so that we were able to see each other better and see the creature better.

"What's your name?" I asked once I had stopped weeping.

"You won't be able to pronounce it right, and I hate it when someone mispronounces my name." She seemed to ponder this statement for a while. "Although its not like anyone has really had a chance to recently."

"Try me," I said, thinking I could pronounce it.

She said a bunch of gibberish that I didn't even catch. I looked at her blankly.

"Told you," she said.

"Well, if we can't pronounce your name, what will we call you?" Ilana asked.

The creature looked at the three of us for a long time, especially Duncan, and then said, "You can call me Cordelia."

"All right," I said. "Why are you here?"

"Because you shouldn't be," Cordelia replied obviously.

We all stared at her blankly, confused.

She sighed. "You're not supposed to be here. If you continue on your way, you will get hurt, and possibly die," she explained.

"How?" I asked.

"Just trust me on this," she said, "you'll get hurt, and you'll die. This forest isn't safe for mortals."

"You're immortal?" Ilana asked, completely straying from the subject at hand. Cordelia sighed, and then nodded.

"Every creature that lives in this forest is immortal. Why do you think there are no birds?"

I shrugged. "Enchantment," I said simply.

"Exactly," Cordelia replied. Then she leapt lightly into the air and flew into a tree. "You've been warned," she said, and disappeared.

"That was more than a little strange," Duncan commented as the fog began to lift, signifying that Cordelia truly was gone.

Ilana nodded, and after a moment of discussion, we decided to keep moving.

We continued on our way, and stopped at sundown. We ate a cold meal and then climbed a tree for protection against nighttime predators. But none of us slept well. Throughout the night, there were snuffling sounds, and at one point, there was an unearthly shriek that terrified me, and made it so that I couldn't sleep at all that first night.

In the morning, exhausted and weighed down by fatigue, we continued our trek and headed north through the forest. All I wanted was to rest, and go home. I couldn't help but wonder whether or not we should have heeded Cordelia's advice and turned back. But I wasn't able to voice my opinion because my throat was so parched. In the end, I closed my eyes and fell into a kind of sleepwalk. I dreamed that I was being carried on the backs of winged creatures, and Cordelia's voice sang in my ear, "You will die, you will die, you will die, you will die..."


	9. Milos

Chapter 9 - Milos

**AN: FYI, the character's name is pronounced "Meeloss".**

I woke from my stupor when a cry erupted from somewhere in the trees. Duncan aimed his musket. It was the same unearthly cry that we'd heard the night before, although now it sounded more like a monkey than anything else.

"I hate this forest," Ilana whimpered, clinging to me. I wondered why in the world she had offered to come along in the first place.

After meeting Cordelia, I no longer felt frightened of the creatures in the forest as much as I would have if we hadn't met her.

"It might be Cordelia again," I muttered, thinking that perhaps she had followed us.

"I doubt it," a strange, high voice said.

A strange monkey-like creature hung itself down off of a tree branch by its tail. "She prefers not to show herself all the time," it said, and emitted the high-pitched cry from the previous night. It was then that I realized that it was laughing.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"More importantly, _what_ are you?" Duncan asked, clutching his musket, which I had returned to him.

"That's a good question," the creature said, "exactly what am I?" It laughed again, and Ilana covered her ears.

"Round and round the mulberry bush, the monkey chased the weasel," it sang, repeating a song that children liked to sing while chasing each other. "The monkey thought it was so much fun. POP! Goes the weasel!" It fell off of the tree branch, laughing hysterically. The creatures in this forest seemed to be very giddy with laughter. _Although Cordelia was more serious than this one_, I thought.

"Oh, thank you so much," he said, appearing happy, but his voice said he was being sarcastic.

"For what?" I asked, confused.

"Of course, everyone always loves Cordelia, but not me. No, everyone hates my kind because we like to have fun and are never serious." It laughed at this, although I could tell it wasn't happy. I wondered why it was laughing if it wasn't happy. I also realized that it had somehow known my thoughts.

"How did you know I was thinking that?" I asked.

"All heruks can read minds," it said matter-of-factly. "We know exactly what's in anybody's hearts. It's great fun to tease people about it."

Duncan growled something in his native language, and then sighed heavily. "This is a waist of time," he said. "Let's keep moving."

"Wait a minute," I said. "If we ask him where to find... _it_, then it could save us days of traveling."

Duncan sighed again. He looked to Ilana for support. She shook her head. "As much as I want to put off seeing that monster again, I think it's best to get it over with as quickly as possible," she said.

Duncan sighed again. He seemed to be doing that a lot. Obviously he was not enjoying this any more than I was. "Very well," he said. "But please, do it quickly. I don't like staying in one place for very long. This forest gives me the creeps."

"Agreed," Ilana and I said in unison, and I turned to the creature watching us with big brown eyes.

"Who are you?" I asked, thinking that perhaps it would be best to be friendly towards the creature first.

"Can you hurry up?" Duncan demanded, sighing loudly in frustration. I began to wonder what I had ever seen in him, and I finally saw what Naveen was always telling me: that her brother was a moron, according to her. I didn't think he was a moron, but he obviously was not thinking clearly, because if he had been, he would have realized that negotiations would be the only way this creature would tell us anything.

The creature giggled. "Milos," he said, smiling.

"What are you?" Ilana asked, trying to help speed things along.

"Aren't you going to answer any of my questions?" Milos asked indignantly, smiling.

"You already know who we are, though," I said. "After all, you can read minds."

"But it's nice to be able to ask," he replied, hanging by his tail and swinging back and forth.

"That's true," I nodded. "My name is Isabella, and this is my stepsister Ilana." I pointed to Ilana.

"Hello," she said, and smiled hesitantly.

"That's Duncan," I said, pointing to Duncan, who just glared.

"He doesn't like me, does he?" Milos asked, tilting his head in a way that reminded me of Cordelia.

"No," I said, feigning sadness. "He's suspicious of everyone, but we're stuck with him."

Duncan rolled his eyes at me at turned away, clutching his musket until his fingers turned white, which was quite a feat since he had such dark skin.

"Milos," I called. He had climbed up several branches and was swinging by his tail from a higher one now. "Can you help us? We need to find the Monster Who Walks Like a Man!" I practically had to scream it.

At my words, Milos jumped down from his branch and landed lightly on the ground two feet away. "Keep your voice down!" He hissed. "You don't speak his title out loud. The King knows everything." He cackled.

"The King?" Duncan asked, suddenly interested.

"Oh, now you like me," Milos said, and he cackled again until he shrieked his unearthly laughter. "You are the first mortals to ever enter this forest, and trust me, you shall be the last."

"Where do we find the King?" I asked, thinking that perhaps he would be more willing to help if we referred to the monster by the same name he used.

"Go past the tree with pale white bark," he said in a quiet, eerie sing-song voice, the same one he had used for the human song he had sung earlier. "Head north until you hear the singing lark. Beyond, the night is black and dark. There the King is." He laughed again, holding his stomach, and pointed in the direction we had been heading. Then he disappeared, climbing the nearest tree until he was out of sight.

"That was weird," Ilana said after a long pause. I stared at the tree Milos had climbed.

"It was a waste of time," Duncan said, and he began to walk away.

"Maybe not," I said, following him with Ilana close behind. "But we should be wary of his instructions anyways."

"What instructions?" Duncan asked. "All he did was sing a song, and then run off laughing."

"Keep in mind he said his kind liked to play practical jokes on people. It would be just like him I think to send us in the wrong direction," Ilana said, and I nodded.

Duncan was silent the rest of the day.

**AN: There is chapter nine, please review and tell me what you think. Don't be afraid to criticize. If I need to describe more, please say so. If I need less chatter, please say so. And if you think any one of my characters is a moron, **_**please**_**, say so. :)**


	10. Lost and Found

Chapter 10 – Lost and Found

We walked from dawn until dusk for four days, never seeing any trees with white bark. I was beginning to think that Milos had lied. Ilana and Duncan were both fed up with walking.

"You just have to admit it, Izzy," Ilana said finally one afternoon, a week after we had left home. We had stopped to eat lunch, and would be starting up again. "You were wrong. That creature lied to us to play a joke on us. We are lost."

"No," I said, not yet willing to give up. I was sure that Milos had been telling the truth.

"You see too much good in people, Isabella," Duncan said. "You have to realize that some people mean you harm, whether you like it or not. Not everyone can like you."

I turned to him. "So just because you're a pessimist means that I have to be one, too?" I demanded, suddenly angry. Something told me that we needed to trust Milos's words. I suddenly wondered whether or not he was laughing at us. But then something else occurred to me. "Besides, what's the point in playing a practical joke if you're not there to watch its results? We'd be able to spot him in a second because of his laugh."

"That's true," Ilana said hesitantly. She turned to Duncan for support. It seemed to me that she wanted to help, but she didn't want to help. She was torn in two with her desire to help me, and with her desire to go home and be safe.

"Ilana," I said, putting a hand on her shoulder, "you didn't need to come with us. You could have stayed home. Why did you come?"

She looked at me, at first blankly, then with surprise and blatancy. "Because I had to," she said simply. "I have to do this. I don't want to go home. Of course I don't want to meet up with the monster, but I have no choice in the matter."

"You did," I said.

"Yes," she said. "But I made my choice, and this was it. I don't regret it for a second."

I searched her face, trying to find something in her eyes that said she was tired of walking and tired of searching for the monster that, for all we knew, was terrorizing our village at that very moment. I wanted to find the lie, but it wasn't there. She was telling the truth.

I nodded, and we finished eating in silence. Then we continued our trek, not knowing what else to do.

As we walked, I began to feel more and more sleepy. I knew we were all tired, but I was sure that I was the most tired, because I could barely keep my eyes open. After about twenty minutes of walking, I collapsed. I couldn't take any more of it. I was too tired. I stayed awake long enough to see Duncan fall to his knees, and to see Ilana give a little sigh as she fell quietly to the ground. As I slept, I heard a musical voice whisper in my ear, "_Sleep…_"

-

My eyes were drooping, and I yawned. I must have dozed off. Where were Duncan and Ilana. I sat up, and immediately fell back down on the bed, my head pounding. Wait a minute – the bed? I was on a bed!

I sat up again, my head swimming. I looked around me. I was in an elegantly furnished room, sitting up in a huge canopied bed. A door was directly across from the foot of the bed, and in the left hand corner beside the door, there was a slanted writing desk supplied with a quill and ink. Beside that was a dressing table, above which a mirror stood. On the right side of the door, there was a closet, with the door closed, and a mirror on the door. A screen stood on the right side of the bed, only a few feet away. On the left side there was a little bedside table, with a candle on it, and a letter, unopened, with writing scribbled on the front of it. Beside the closet were two huge glass double doors that led to a balcony. Silken curtains billowed out around them, blown in by the wind. I watched their dance for a moment. Sunlight streamed into the room, falling across the plush carpet in front of the bed.

I threw back the blankets, mesmerized by the beauty of the room. The walls were a pale yellow, and there were paintings of little yellow roses in the corners of the walls that met the ceiling.

I was wearing a silken nightgown, falling down to my feet. I stepped onto the carpet, my feet sinking into it. It was so soft, and felt good on my tired feet. I went over to the closet mirror and looked closely at myself. I didn't look any different – my curly red hair framed my face and fell down to the small of my back. My emerald green eyes were the same, although a little tired. And the sprinkling of freckles across my nose was still there, the only feature on my face that I didn't like because it made me feel childish. Only young children should have had freckles, in my mind.

The door opened, and a young woman came in. She was inhumanly beautiful, with long golden hair and clear blue eyes. Her skin was perfect, without blemishes. She looked at the bed, and then stopped. She turned and saw me at the door to the closet. She smiled, showing perfect teeth. What kind of place was this that people were so beautiful?

She held a pitcher of water, and she set it down on the dressing table. Curling her hair behind her ears, she poured the water into a bowl that was already on the table. As she curled her hair behind her ears, I caught sight of them, and gasped. They were pointed – she was either a faerie, or an elf. Either way, I was not in good hands.

I cautiously went up to her and washed my face with the water, which was what it was for. She held out a towel for me to dry my face with. I did so, watching her suspiciously.

Finally, I plucked up the courage to ask a question. "Where are my companions?" I demanded. It didn't occur that she couldn't understand me.

She smiled at me, but said nothing. Then she went to the closet and held out a dress. It was a bright emerald green, the same color as my eyes. The bodice was tight, with ribbon weaving through it to create a criss-cross pattern. The sleeves were long and were meant to drape over the fingers. The skirt was long, and pleated. It was an elegant dress, and the V-shaped neckline was just the right length.

Cautiously I put it on, not sure what the purpose was of the dress. I wouldn't be able to keep it clean if I wore it when I left. It would be soiled and dirty by the time I had walked ten feet.

It didn't occur to me that I wasn't leaving.

**AN: There's chapter 10! I know it's a little short, but I want to save what comes next for the next chapter. Review, please, and let me know what you think! No flames, please!**


	11. Queen Adellia

Chapter 11 – Adellia

After I had put on the dress, the strange woman – who still hadn't said a word since she entered the room – left me alone. I wondered why. I soon found out.

A man entered the room, his long hair hiding his ears, so that I couldn't tell if he had pointed ears like the maid had had. He said, in a voice with a thick accent, "Follow." Then he turned on his heel and walked off, leaving me to follow in my still-bare feet. I wished for some shoes.

I followed him down endless corridors, and past numerous oak doors. I continued to feel nervous and curious. I was also scared for Ilana and Duncan. Where were they? I would have asked my guide where my companions were, but I didn't think he spoke enough English to be able to understand my question.

At last, we approached a pair of enormous double doors made of what looked to be mahogany. My guide knocked twice on one of the doors, and they swung open to reveal a receiving hall. It was beautifully made. The floor was gold marble – which seemed impossible, and yet there it was. The walls were actually mirrors, reflecting everything in the room. My bare feet slapped the cold tiles as I followed my guide into the hall, and my face was reflected in a thousand facets. The domed ceiling was at least three stories high, and a huge chandelier was hanging from the middle of the dome. There was a throne directly across from the doors where we had come through, and on either side of the throne was a curved staircase.

And sitting on the throne, one leg draped elegantly over the other, was a seven-foot tall woman with pale wings protruding from her back, covered with a pale silver and gold film that made them shimmer. She wore a golden dress with a V-neck collar, and there were no sleeves to the dress, which made me think of her as scandalous. But this stately lady with her golden hair and golden eyes made me nervous, so I said nothing.

She stood as we approached, and I realized she was about seven feet tall. She opened her arms and strode up to me, her steps filled with purpose. I stopped walking, closed my eyes, and cringed, anticipating what she was going to do. I felt her wrap her arms around me and hug me. I hated being hugged. I hated it more than anything in the world, especially when I was being hugged by a stranger. Only Mother had permission to hug me, because I knew she loved me. I had known that Father loved me, but there had been times when I had questioned it.

The moment she released me, she grabbed my hand before I had time to open my eyes, and dragged me over to her throne. There was a smaller throne sitting beside hers, and she sat me down on it as though I were a sack of flour. I noticed that she was barefoot as well.

"Who are you?" I asked, terrified. My voice squeaked when I spoke.

"Oh, my dear!" She declared, standing up and walking over to the wall, where she primped herself and preened like a peacock displaying its feathers. "My name is Adellia," she said. "Do you know what I am?"

"A faerie?" I asked, certain that was what she was.

Her wings folded themselves and then opened themselves. Then she took flight, and flew over to me. "Yes, my dear," she said. "I am the Queen Adellia." She floated above me, proudly displaying her beauty. Her name, I recalled – because there was not a village who had not heard legends about the faerie queen – meant, "Beautiful, Winged Queen". It was a fitting name for a faerie queen.

After a moment, she landed in front of her throne and sat down. She said something in the faerie language – at least I thought it was the faerie language – and the man who had guided me here left. Then she shooed away all her guards, who I hadn't noticed until then

The moment we were alone, she took my hands in hers and declared in the voice of someone who is often lonely, "Now we will have such fun together!"

"Where are my companions?" I squeaked.

Her smile fell, and was instantly transformed into a frown. She let go of my hands. "Why do you want them?" She demanded. "Aren't I more beautiful than they? Aren't I more wondrous?" She puffed herself up.

I shrugged. She stiffened. "Of course you are," I said simply, finally finding the strength my voice needed. "But beauty makes no difference to who I wish to spend my time with."

She became quite angry. "Your _friends_," she sneered, "are safe… for _now_." Her voice became threateningly low, and she leaned towards me, blowing her hot breath into my face. "But that can change," she said. "I could kill them with but a flick of my finger, if I so chose."

I was terrified. Ilana and Duncan were safe for the moment. But I knew what would come next: what she wanted from me.

She abruptly changed the subject. "Would you like to be my friend?" She asked in a child's voice. Her voice was dangerously low. This faerie was mad!

I swallowed hard and nodded, knowing if I didn't, it would mean the death of both Ilana and Duncan.

She jumped up and clapped her hands. "Wonderful!" She declared. "Let's play a game!"

Throughout the course of the next five hours, I supplied the childish faerie queen with the entertainment she craved. I learned after my first win, that it was not wise to play fair with Queen Adellia. She craved adoration, attention, and love. And that meant that she had to win. Every time.

"I win again!" She declared triumphantly after a grueling hour and a half of tossing a ball back and forth. Whoever dropped the ball first lost. It was an unimaginative game, one that a two year old might play. I had dropped the ball after I noticed her face becoming sour. And after I noticed her fumble a little.

The queen was like a child, wanting "mommy" to play with her until the cows came home, and then some. Finally, I was too tired to do anything, so I just collapsed where I was.

"Wake up, sleepyhead," she said childishly. "Time to play something else."

But before I could wake up, I fell completely asleep. I don't know how she reacted, because I was unconscious. But I didn't care; I was too tired. My last conscious thought was, "Where are Ilana and Duncan?"

**AN: There is chapter 11. Still a little short, I know. But if you review, maybe the next one will be longer! (I don't plan the chapters ahead of time). CC is welcome, flames are not.**


	12. A Fatal Flaw

Chapter 12 – A Fatal Flaw

After about three days of torture, living under Adellia's thumb, I made a decision: I was going to escape if it killed me. I sat awake at night – I couldn't sleep because hunger gnawed at my stomach, along with fear. I hadn't eaten or drunk anything since my arrival, making excuses to Adellia, saying that I wanted to lose some weight. She of all people understood the pains one took to become beautiful, and so she did not question me.

So, as I lay awake, I thought about what I might be able to do to escape from under Adellia's thumb.

Queen Adellia was like a child: she demanded attention and admiration. She wanted people to fall at their knees in awe before her beauty, and the receiving hall – the one where I had first met her – was her favorite room in the castle because she could see her reflection in a thousand different mirrors. She spent most of her time there, and as a result, knew nothing of what went on outside that room.

Most of the servants, who I found out, were elven slaves and not faeries at all. They were under her thumb, just as I was. The only difference being that most of them didn't understand a word she said, and as a result, they were often whipped.

So, what would it be that could stop Queen Adellia? She had everything: beauty, grace, and most important of all – magic. So what would a queen want that I could give her in exchange for my friends? After all, she wasn't the type to be fooled easily.

Or was she?

I sat up in bed, suddenly alert. Wait a minute… the queen had beauty, but she was also vain, demanding attention. What if I was to give her something that would allow her to look at herself everywhere she went?

But she probably already had a mirror. I lay back down again. And then I sat up again. But what if I got her a mirror that would allow her to see herself from all angles; a multi-faceted mirror?

But that wouldn't entertain her for very long, would it? What if it caught the light? Would that help? Would she be entranced and not pay attention? I didn't know, but I had to try.

I lay back down in bed, and for the first time in almost a week, I slept the night through.

-

Later that day, as Adellia and I were "playing", I mentioned the faerie holiday in passing.

"I know!" She exclaimed, excited. "I can't wait! You'll have so much fun!"

"Well," I said, "I was planning on making you a present, but I need to do it alone."

"Present?" She said, suddenly alert. She flew towards me. We had been playing catch, and it was a tiresome game that she found amusing. "What present? What is it?" She demanded, looming over me.

I pretended to be fascinated with my fingernail. "It's supposed to be a surprise," I said. "And if I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise. So you'll have to find out later."

"Now!" She declared, landing and stomping her foot. "I want to know now! I want it now!"

"I haven't made it yet," I said. "And if I give it to you before the holiday, what then?"

"Then you'll give it to me before the holiday," she said simply, her hands on her hips.

I looked at my fingers and went over to one of the mirrors that covered the walls. She followed, hovering behind me. "If I give it to you before the holiday," I said, pretending to be extremely interested in my hairstyle, "then you have to give me something before the holiday."

"Why should I give you anything?" She scoffed, folding her arms over her chest.

I turned to her. "Because I thought we were friends," I said, putting on a sad face. "I guess I was wrong." I turned away from her.

"Wait," she said. I tried to control the corners of my mouth, which wanted to turn upwards. "Maybe we can make a deal."

I turned to her, false tears glistening in the corners of my eyes. "What kind of deal?" I asked, and sniffed.

"What if I let you and your friends go, and then you give it to me?" She suggested eagerly.

"Well…" I said, feigning dislike.

"Please!" She begged. "I'll even give you provisions for your journey."

I needed to know how much more she was going to give me. "Well…" I said again, pretending to think about it. "I'm not sure. Provisions don't help a whole lot if you don't know how to get to where you're going."

"I'll give you directions," she said. "Where are you going?"

"We're looking for the Monster Who Walks Like a Man," I said.

She looked at me for a moment; just looked. "Why?" She asked, suddenly angry.

"Because it's been terrorizing our village, so we want to kill it and resolve the problem," I replied.

She seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. "Oh," was all she said. Then, "Do we have a deal?" She looked at me expectantly.

"Well, alright," I said, and then added, "But I need the supplies to make this present."

"What supplies?" She asked.

"No," I said, shaking my finger. "It's a surprise."

"Fine," she said, folding her arms over her chest and pouting. She beckoned to one of the elven guards. "Whatever supplies she needs," she said, "give it to her."

The guard nodded, and I followed him to a supply shed, where I found what I needed. Then, at the cost of the queen, I bought numerous pieces of mirror, so that it would reflect her face, and she would be entranced.

I had a guard help me fuse the sides together. Every so often, the queen would come in, and she'd hover over my shoulder, whispering in my ear. "What is it? What is it?" She would bounce up and down in the air, as though she were riding the wind.

"Not yet," I would say gently, and I would gently push her out of the room. But she would always come back, and hover some more, whispering and squealing excitedly when I said, "That part's done."

"Can I have it now?" She would ask.

"It's not done yet," I would reply, and I'd have to repeat the process of getting her to leave over and over.

Finally, after two days in which the queen was probably bored out of her mind, and at the same time excited, it was finished. It was a multi-faceted, mirrored ball that she could look at herself in, and it was perfect. I just didn't know how to wrap it. So instead I called her in, and held it behind my back.

"It's done," I said.

"Give it to me!" She nearly shrieked with impatience, holding out her arms to receive the present.

I produced the ball from behind my back, and handed it to her.

She held it reverently in her hands, and turned it over and over. "It's so shiny," she whispered in awe. She touched parts of it, entranced.

"You are the only person ever to have one," I said. I hoped it was true, otherwise I was in big trouble. I waited a long moment while she stared at the ball, fascinated with it like a cat would be with a piece of string. "Can my friends and I leave now?" I asked.

She nodded absently, and the guard who was there made a motion to one of his fellows. He left, and when he returned with two more guards, they were dragging Ilana and Duncan by their arms. Both my stepsister, and Naveen's brother were unconscious.

"What about our directions?" I asked as I went over to them. They looked like they had slept the whole week, and there was a peaceful expression on both their faces.

The Queen waved her hand, and the castle, the guards, and the queen all fell away. It felt like I was falling, although I knew better. She was bringing us back. "What about our directions?" I screamed, crouching in front of Duncan. I received no reply, aside from the howling wind.

When the wind died down, the afternoon sunlight was shining on my face. I must have looked a little bit like an angel when Duncan opened his eyes and saw me. He smiled faintly. "I had a wonderful dream," he said, and my heart beat faster. Okay, so maybe I wasn't over my crush just yet.

A little ways away, Ilana was sitting up and rubbing her eyes. "How long have we been sleeping?" She asked, yawning. She stretched and scratched her back.

"About a week," I replied, going over to where I saw our packs. I opened them up, and saw several packages that weren't there before. I took them out and dumped them on the ground, spilling the food in them onto the earth. Then I stepped on them, which, not surprisingly, turned them to ashes.

Ilana and Duncan stared at me, shocked. "What are you doing? That's our food!" Duncan yelled, and came over to try and stop me.

"Don't!" I hissed at him. "It's not ours! It's faerie food, and it will put us under her control forever!"

"Whose control?" Ilana asked, grabbing her pack. I had already removed all faerie food and drink from it.

"The Queen's," I replied.

"You met the Queen of the faeries?" Duncan asked incredulously.

"Trust me," I said, "it's not as great as it sounds." I grabbed my pack and handed Duncan his. "Let's get going," I said. "We need to leave this place as soon as possible."

Duncan and Ilana nodded, and together the three of us resumed our trek through the Enchanted Forest.

**AN: Sorry it's taken so long to get an update. So many people wanted to read my Inkheart fic that I had to update that some more. So, review, please, and let me know what you think. :)**


	13. Riddles and Rhymes

Chapter 13 – Riddles and Rhymes

We walked for days with few rests in between. I wanted to make sure that the queen was not following us. I didn't trust her, even with the multi-faceted ball I had made for her.

My stomach grumbled. I hadn't eaten much since being released, trying to conserve my energy. Not surprisingly, Ilana and Duncan didn't feel the slightest bit of hunger. More faerie magic. I grimaced. My stomach grumbled, and my head swam. I was feeling slightly faint.

A thick fog had been drifting down from the sky for the past three hours, when I fell to my knees, weak with hunger and thirst.

Ilana kneeled beside me, concern etched across her forehead. Duncan stood awkwardly, his rifle in his hand.

"I can't walk anymore," I whispered. Ilana rummaged through my pack and brought out my water skin. I lay myself down, but she forced me to sit up while she poured some water into my mouth. "We have to conserve supplies."

"Conserving supplies will do us no good if you die from hunger and thirst," she retorted, and broke off a piece of bread. "Can you feed yourself, or are you going to make me force-feed you like a baby?" She asked. She knew how stubborn I could be.

Grumbling, I took the bread from her and nibbled on it. She gave me a look, and I took a large bite. Ilana sat down beside me while I ate, and Duncan crouched on his haunches, waving his gun around suspiciously. He had been shocked when I had explained to him and Ilana that the three of us had been taken by surprise, and the queen had had control over us. He hated the idea of anyone controlling him.

The fog was growing thicker, and I could hear the leaves of the trees rustling in the faint wind. It was eerily beautiful, and for some reason it made me nervous.

Duncan seemed to feel the same, and every so often, he'd jump up, aiming his gun in a seemingly random direction.

"Would you stop that?" Ilana finally asked him after the fourth time. "You're making me nervous."

"I keep hearing something," he said, whirling around and aiming his gun in the opposite direction.

"It's a forest; you're going to hear things," Ilana replied, half-sarcastically. She was obviously just as tired as I was. Perhaps that faerie sleep hadn't been as good for her as I had originally thought.

"No, this is different," he said. "We've heard this before."

"We?" I asked. "You're the only one hearing things." I sighed and took another bite of bread as Ilana kept close watch on me, to make sure that I actually ate. I had developed a smaller appetite since not eating for almost a week. It had drained me, and I was less eager to eat now than before. But I had to eat if I wanted to keep going.

"I'm telling you, that monkey-thing gave us the wrong directions," Duncan muttered under his breath, calming a little and crouching down beside Ilana.

"Of course he did," I replied, sighing. I was still quite tired, and the fact that I was malnourished didn't help either. "Did you think it was just coincidence that we wandered into the territory of the faerie queen?"

Duncan and Ilana looked at me for a long moment. The fog hung around us in drifts, like airy waves. It felt cool on my skin, and actually cured my parched throat. Then a thought occurred to me as Duncan stood again, waving his gun around.

"You're right," I said softly to him. "We're not alone." I stood, and so did Ilana.

"What do you mean?" She asked, curious and nervous. She could tell that I was worried, just as she was worried.

"You can come out now," I said loudly, making sure that my voice could be heard above the whispering of the leaves in the trees. A soft, eerie wind blew through the place where we stood, causing my unruly hair to fly about my face.

A soft, sad, giggle was heard. I didn't think laughter could sound sad, but it did. Then Cordelia flew down from one of the trees to the astonishment of Duncan and Ilana. I was not surprised, though. I had figured it out. I suppose I knew it all along, especially when the fog showed up. I remembered how the fog followed Cordelia around like a dog, begging to be petted.

"Why are you following us?" I asked softly, leaning down. For some reason, I felt she was quite sad.

"He needs your help," she whispered in her strange, almost musical, voice. It still reminded me of the voice of a child. Innocent, pure, and child-like, Cordelia just stood there, looking so sad that I wanted to cry.

"Who needs our help?" I asked, whispering just as she had.

She reached out her delicate, webbed hand, and gently stroked my cheek. "He needs _your_ help," she whispered, so that only I could hear. A shudder ran down my spine, and I only realized I was crying when Cordelia wiped away a tear that was trickling down my cheek.

I wiped my own eyes. "But who needs my help?" I asked, knowing that she didn't mean this person needed the help of all three of us, but solely my help. This thought unnerved me, but I knew that I had to do something.

"He does," she whispered back, lowering her hand, and giggling a soft, sad giggle, showing the slight tips of her fangs.

"What's she saying?" Ilana asked softly, although not as softly as Cordelia and I had been speaking.

I straightened up, and Cordelia looked at me with that expression of a child who has just lost a parent.

That thought made me focus. I knelt down again and held her by the shoulders. "Who, Cordelia?" I asked gently, although the urgency in my voice was plain. "Who needs my help?"

This time, Duncan, who was always suspicious of Cordelia, heard me. "Whoever it is, we don't have time. We have to find that beast, and kill it before it kills us."

I turned to him. "Shut up!" I hissed at him, although I didn't yell it. I was angry with him, more angry than I'd ever been because Cordelia was obviously still a child at heart, and she needed comfort and protection. Duncan was treating her as though she wasn't a living creature, with thoughts and feelings.

Taken aback, Duncan closed his mouth and sullenly glared at Cordelia. I stood in front of her and blocked his view. She didn't need to become any more upset than she already was.

"Who, Cordelia?" I repeated to the little blue-skinned girl.

She began to whisper a rhyming chant, somewhat similar to what Milos had sung, although much more sad that anything I had heard before:

"_The Queen bade the King,_

_make her a ball of fire,_

_for he held within his grasp,_

_all of her desire._

_The King refused this joy,_

_though she wept and plead_

_for him to not be cruel;_

_though she threatened him with death._

_But even such a threat as this_

_could not sway his choice,_

_and so she silenced him,_

_and she stole his voice._

_The prince lives alone now,_

_in his castle made of stone._

_So he must live a thousand years,_

_so he must atone._

_There is no other solution_

_but that she with the fiery light_

_bring him from the darkness_

_and end his tortured night."_

Cordelia finished her mournful rhyme with a sad trill, and then repeated the song that Milos had sung, "Go past the tree with pale white bark. Head north until you hear the singing lark. Beyond, the night is black and dark. There the King is."

"Who is the King?" I asked, knowing she did not mean the king of the human realm, but someone more magical. For a moment, I thought that perhaps it was the king of the faeries, but I didn't think that Queen Adellia was married to anyone. Queen Adellia! I suddenly remembered how Adellia had reacted when I told her where we were going…

_"Where are you going?"_

_"We're looking for the Monster Who Walks Like a Man," I said._

_She looked at me for a moment, just looked. "Why?" She asked, suddenly suspicious._

_"Because it's been terrorizing our village, so we want to kill it," I replied._

_She seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. "Oh,"_

"Cordelia," I began, knowing that what I would say next would define the next leg of our journey, "is the Queen in your rhyme the queen of the faeries?"

Cordelia said nothing, but a few tears began to slip down her cheeks as the fog drifted lower to the ground, growing thicker by the moment. I unconsciously knew that the fog was affected by her emotions, and the thicker it became, the sadder – or angrier – she was.

"Cordelia," I repeated her name, knowing that this was the defining moment, "is the King in the rhyme" – I sucked in a deep breath – "…is he The Monster Who Walks Like a Man?"

She had been staring at the ground, but when I said that, Cordelia looked up at me, just looked, and I knew I had my answer.

**AN: A very long chapter for your delight, because I have taken so long in updating this story. I personally love the poem in there, and I love it so much that I'm going to put it on deviantart, where I have an account. There's a link there from my profile. Review, please, and let me know what you think. CC is welcome, flames are not.**


	14. The Guide

Chapter 14 – The Guide

"Isabella," Ilana murmured as I stood there, staring at the spot where Cordelia stood, looking sad and forlorn, like a child without a parent. That thought made me think again of the monster that we were there to kill. Was he really the monster that he appeared, or something more?

I stood there, not answering Ilana's cries of protest. Even when she shook me by the arm, hard, I did not move.

"How long?" I finally managed to say, but not to Ilana. I was speaking to Cordelia.

She looked dejected, staring at the ground again. "Not long," she whispered, knowing immediately what I was asking without me having to say what it was specifically.

"Not long until what?" Ilana asked. She turned to Duncan, her voice pleading. "Make her talk to me!" She ordered, panic rising in her throat. "She won't talk to me!"

I swallowed hard, and spoke to Ilana and Duncan then, knowing that they weren't going to like what I had to say. "Cordelia is going to lead us to the Monster Who Walks Like a Man," I said slowly, shaping each word carefully. "But not so we can kill it… at least, not yet…" I added the last part in a whisper, although I was sure that Cordelia heard me either way, so it didn't really matter all that much.

"What?" Duncan exclaimed, protesting. "No, absolutely not, I forbid it."

I turned to face him, knowing I was different; changed by a few words. Duncan knew it, too; he saw it in my eyes and in the way I held myself. "What did you say?" I whispered, my voice dangerously low. He momentarily lowered his gaze, and then looked back up at me.

"You heard me," he said, his voice thick with his accent, and an emotion that I could not name. "I promised to protect you, and that means that I'm not going to let you allow that, that – thing! – to lead us into a trap, understand?" He held the rifle tight in his fingers, as though he were imagining squeezing the life out of Cordelia.

I walked up to him in a dangerous stroll, making sure he saw how angry his words made me. "Naveen was right about you, Duncan," I said.

He looked at me, not understanding.

"And so was Bryanne," I added. "You are a jackass." I paused. "I can't believe I ever thought anything more of you. You're just like every other man: thinking he has the world on his shoulders and has to protect the little women from all the dangers of the world. Let me tell you something, Mister Protector," I said, getting up into his face, and hissing angrily at him while he stood there, frozen by my unexpected words, "you are not needed on this trip," I told him. "You only came because you had a gun, and I was to be the bait. But to be perfectly honest, give me a gun, and I'll do it myself. But don't you _dare_ act as though I can't take care of myself. I have been taking care of my family ever since my mother fell ill, so don't talk to me about needing protection. Need I remind you that up until this journey, I have been the only person in a thousand years to be able to go into the forest and return unscathed?" I was so close to him, that our noses were nearly touching. At any other point and time, I would have been mortified at myself, but I was too angry to think about it. "Don't forget," I added, as I turned away, "we're not out of the woods yet. There's always time for someone to die."

I left him with that thought and ignored Ilana's look of horror at my words. I instead turned to Cordelia. "Can you lead us there?" I asked. "Can you take us to the Monster Who Walks Like a Man?"

She looked up at me, and her eyes seemed to be penetrating my very soul. "Yes," she said. "But it would have been better if you had gone by yourself. I was not to tell you anything, but point the way." She looked down at her webbed fingers. "But he is so close to death now," she whispered, so only I could hear. "His time is nearly up."

I nodded, though I didn't understand. I turned to Ilana and Duncan. "Come on," I said. "We're leaving now. Cordelia is taking us."

"I still don't agree with this," Duncan muttered, finally finding his voice.

"And I still don't care," I retorted. "Besides, would you rather wander around the woods in search of a birch tree that is nowhere to be found?"

"A birch tree?" Ilana asked, her voice a squeak.

"'Go past the tree with pale white bark'", I recited. "That's a birch tree. And they are not typical of this kind of terrain, so it's impossible for them to be anywhere near here. With Cordelia guiding us, we will make good time, and we'll actually arrive at our destination."

Duncan shook his head. "Naveen will worry," he muttered to himself.

"She's already worrying," I replied flatly, grabbed my pack, and headed after Cordelia, who had already begun to hop about the trees and brush, using her wings for balance.

I caught a glimpse of Ilana shrugging to Duncan and then following me. After a long moment, Duncan followed as well, though grudgingly.

-

The Monster sighed, his body still in pain. He was too old… it was nearly time for him to die, and then he would never be free from this curse. Then the Queen would revive him, and make him teach her the only thing she did not know.

A small male gnome stood beside the Monster as he lay in the River of Tears, watchful, waiting until his master would stand, and he could hand him the enormous towel that was draped over one arm.

The only sound that could be heard was the sound of women's sobs, sobs that had been gathered by the gnomes and, using the only art of magic they knew, bound to the rocks surrounding the River of Tears. The sound of a human maiden's sobs were the only thing that cheered the gnomes, as strange as it sounds to the humans. But they love that sound, because it reminds them that the humans are not perfect. Thousands of years ago, when the humans were still young, the gnomes were attacked by the humans and enslaved, because they were believed to be inferior. The gnomes, in retaliation, had slaughtered ninety-nine virgin maidens, and caught their sobs inside copper jars. They had taken it to this cave, they're healing river, and bound the sobs to the stones, to remind all who came after that humans were not as strong as they had once appeared. Then the gnomes had gone into hiding, and still had not shown themselves to the humans. Only the Faerie Queen Adellia knew they existed anymore, and she paid them no more attention than a human does a mosquito.

"It has been quite a long time," the gnome said after what seemed like hours had passed. His voice was like that of an avalanche of stones rumbling down a mountain. "Will she come?"

"She will come," the Monster said softly. "She will come because she must." He said it as though to reassure himself that it was true.

"Of course, Master," the gnome replied respectfully, bowing at the waist.

_She must come,_ the Monster thought. _She must, or else all is lost._

But in his heart, he didn't have any hope left. And so he did not rise from the River. He was too weak. His dying heart could not bear the thought of standing, and so he lay there, waiting.

**AN: Wow! Two chapters in two days! Review, please, and let me know what you think. CC is welcome, flames are not.**


	15. Gilmo

Chapter 15 – Gilmo

Duncan was not happy. He had been grouchy ever since I made the decision to allow Cordelia to become our guide. Ilana had made no comment, but I knew she agreed, at least somewhat, with what Duncan said, and therefore she was not happy about it either. But she was not one to want to cause a fight.

Duncan, on the other hand, seemed to love to argue, and insisted that his idea had been better, though the facts were right in front of his face that his plan had been flawed on several levels.

He came up to me, whispering in my ear so that Cordelia couldn't hear me. "I don't trust her," he hissed, his breath tickling the nape of my neck.

But I no longer enjoyed his company the way I once did, and had lost nearly all of my respect for him. So, instead of shuddering and blushing as I might have done, I grabbed him by the throat and told him to leave me alone.

Stunned, he stood there, touching his neck, while Ilana looked at him, then at me, then back at him, and finally followed me as I followed Cordelia. After a moment, Duncan followed as well, but he kept silent, brooding.

We had been walking for a long time when Cordelia stopped. The fog had followed us, as it followed Cordelia, but it was thinner than it had been. Still, though, it was thick, and almost completely hid from sight the image of a pale, stunted birch tree. It was striped with brown, so that it looked like it had been whipped, but it was a birch tree nonetheless – the only tree with pale white bark.

"'Go past the tree with pale white bark,'" Cordelia recited quietly, and she turned to me. "Here, I must leave you," she said. "I cannot lead you all the way; it is forbidden. You must find your own way."

I nodded. I had suspected as much. There was something different about this Monster; it was not like the ones in the stories of old. Most of those monsters were predators, coming after their prey almost immediately. I suspected that there was more of man than of monster in this creature.

"What?" Ilana asked, her voice giving away her fright. Obviously, though she didn't trust Cordelia completely, she trusted my decision, and she felt just as I did that Cordelia could lead us to the Monster, and so end our journey more quickly. Prolonging it was not something that appealed to either of us, but I knew that Cordelia had made up her mind.

Since the journey's start, I felt different. Even from the moment I entered the forest, I knew that I was different. I was less tolerant of other's insults towards me and my decisions. I was also traveling more on instinct than anything else. That, too, was different, but I felt more complete; like this was what I was supposed to be doing. So, as much as I disliked the idea of having to travel the rest of the way without Cordelia, I knew it was necessary, and I followed my instinct.

"Which way is north?" I asked her, to make sure that we didn't head in the wrong direction. I didn't want to end get lost, or worse end up in the clutches of Queen Adellia again. I doubted that she would be so cordial a second time.

Cordelia pointed just past the birch tree, towards where the sun was beginning to sink into the horizon. "The sun works differently in this forest," she answered to my unspoken question. I knew that the sun sank in the West, and rose in the East, so it had to be West she was pointing to. Still, though, I trusted her judgment, and motioned for Duncan and Ilana to follow.

I hadn't spoken to them much since deciding that Cordelia was to be our guide. They were both sullen and silent, especially Duncan, who distrusted Cordelia, and who I think lived too much by his "intelligence" and not enough by instinct. Before, I would have admired him for that, but now I had no admiration for his supposed intelligence, because it was foolish to think that instinct had no affect on a person's actions.

"Come on," I said to Duncan and Ilana as Cordelia left. I started to leave.

"You're insane," Duncan said.

"Your point?" I asked.

He just stared at me. I knew there was no point in arguing, so I just started walking in the direction Cordelia had pointed out, disliking Duncan more and more. I couldn't believe that I had ever though perhaps he and I might make a good match. It just went to show that I had matured greatly since the start of the journey.

After a cautious moment, Ilana followed, and Duncan, perhaps because he didn't want to be left alone, or perhaps because he still felt and obligation to protect me, followed as well.

We walked for the rest of the day, until night fell. Then we made camp in the tree branches. When I woke, it was already light, and for a moment, I thought that Adellia had caught me again. But then I saw that Duncan and Ilana were talking quietly together on the ground, and I didn't like the way they were glancing in my direction.

I climbed down out of the tree, and made my way towards them, trying to hear what they were whispering about. But the moment I came within earshot, they both fell silent. I had a sneaking suspicion that they were talking about me, and I didn't like that thought one bit.

"Alright, what is it?" I asked, grabbing my pack and digging in it for something to eat. I brought out a piece of bread and bit into it, taking some of the olive oil that Ilana had left in her pack, and dipping the bread in it, since it was stale and dried out.

"What is what?" Duncan asked, his tone sounding haughty. He obviously thought he was better qualified to make decisions on this journey. But I wasn't going to allow someone else to make my decisions for me.

"What are you talking about, and why aren't you talking about it anymore?" I clarified, taking a swallow of water.

"We were finished talking," Duncan replied, his voice still carrying that self-absorbed tone that I disliked. Ilana still hadn't said anything.

"Right when I came over?" I asked, taking another bite of bread. "How convenient." My voice was overly sarcastic, as I had meant it to be, and Duncan scowled at me angrily. He obviously was used to having someone else make the decisions, and he didn't like it. Either that, or he thought that I shouldn't be making the decisions because I was a girl. Either way, though, I didn't appreciate his treatment of me.

"We're moving off in five minutes," I said, strapping my pack on. Both Ilana and Duncan looked at me.

"I don't think so," Duncan said. "The Monster obviously has no intention of returning if it hasn't shown up by now. We are going home."

"Then you go," I said simply. Ilana still said nothing. "I hoisted my pack higher, grabbing a fallen branch to use as a walking stick, and started off in the direction opposite to where the sun was now rising.

Ilana and Duncan stood there for a minute, and then Ilana grabbed her pack and followed me. Duncan grabbed his gun and pack, heaving a large sigh, and followed us.

Several hours later, a high-pitched shriek of fear resounded throughout the forest, followed by the snarl of what sounded like a predator cat. The shrieks became more and more insistent, and then next thing I knew, a small man came bursting out of the underbrush, on his face a look of terror, and bounding after him was a large, black cat. Duncan grabbed his gun, quick on the draw, and shot the thing dead.

The little man stood quivering, a few feet away from the dead animal. His skin was a pale grey-green, and covered in the finest wrinkles. He looked older than the oldest spinster in our village, and she was ninety-two. The man had brown hair, with streaks of white in it, proving he was indeed old, and he was quite wide. Not fat, really, but stout. He had short legs and short arms, and his eyes were the color of coal when it is just beginning to heat. He wore a pair of plain coarse brown breeches and a plain white tunic, covered with the tatters of a plain blue jacket. On his feet were a pair of plain leather shoes, seeming as leathery as his face. Small white hair sprouted from his knuckles, and he covered his face in fright, still recovering from the scare he'd had.

"Are you all right?" I asked, concerned. He seemed about to cry.

He shook his head. There was a scratch on his forehead, and dried blood, the color of coal, rested there. A purple bruise was over one eye. "I'm in so much trouble," he wailed, his voice sounding like stones rumbling down a mountain, but holding such a mournful wail to them that I felt an enormous amount of pity for him.

"What's your name?" I asked gently.

"Gilmo," he answered sullenly, staring at the dead cat. "And soon I'll look like that." He pointed to the lifeless animal.

"Well, that's too bad," Duncan said pessimistically, and turned to leave. Ilana grabbed him by the shoulders and with surprising strength, steered him back to face Gilmo, who was staring at me as though he'd seen a ghost.

"Is something the matter?" I asked. "Besides the dead cat, of course," I added.

"N-no," he said nervously, shaking his head. Then he grabbed something from the ground, and took off. Later, I realized that my ring was gone. It was something that Father had given me on my fifteenth birthday, to celebrate. He had hugged me and made me promise that before I made a decision about a husband, he was to see the boy first and make sure he was good enough for me. I had laughed at his typical fatherly behaviour: protect the daughter from the greed of men. I was angry, but I couldn't do anything about it. So, we continued on our journey, until night fell, and we camped out in a tree as protection against the terrors of the night.

**AN: There's another chapter! Yay! I know I said that I would write another chapter for a while, but I was on a role! Anyways, review please and let me know what you think. CC is welcome, flames are not.**


	16. The Lark

Chapter 16 – The Lark

We traveled for what seemed like forever, always heading in what we hoped was north. Duncan was still as crotchety as ever, and I often caught him and Ilana talking in low voices, whispering with their heads bent. But the moment they caught sight of me, or I moved in closer, their words would die in their throats and Ilana would look guiltily at the ground while Duncan would stare at me defiantly, daring me to say something. I never would, and he would become even grouchier, unhappy because he wasn't getting his way.

And every time I walked away, to leave them to themselves – when it seemed that I would make the rest of the journey by myself – then Ilana would shrug, follow me, and Duncan would begrudgingly follow also, although he'd make my life miserable for the next day and a half.

After two and a half days of walking, rationing our supplies to make it last longer, the supplies ran out, and we were left with only two half-empty water-skins, and the hope that we would reach a freshwater stream within the next few hours. But no such luck was granted, and by the end of the day, the water was gone as well. It was blisteringly hot out, and the humidity was almost unbearable.

We trudged aimlessly on, Ilana and Duncan relying on me to guide us in the right direction. But with a parched throat, and a sweating body, one cannot think as well as one can on a full stomach, lying in the shade of an olive tree, and so I was not in the best of mind when I stumbled across a fallen log, and fell flat on my face. Too tired to move, I lay there, exhausted. A moment later, I heard Ilana and Duncan fall as well, the heat too much.

I worried that this might be another one of Adellia's ploys to get a "friend", but it didn't seem like her. Technically, I hadn't done anything wrong by striking the deal with her, and in fact she had let me leave on relatively good terms. So this was either a trick by someone else, or we were meant to die right then and there. As it turned out, neither was the case.

-

"You disobeyed a direct order," the Monster said, his voice hurt more than anything.

"I wanted to something to help," Cordelia whispered, her voice sounding small and very far away. The Monster's hearing was failing him now, and he knew it wouldn't be long before his sense of sight followed. Already, when his mind drifted elsewhere like that of an old spinster, he felt his eyesight waning.

"You couldn't have just given them some instructions and then left them?" The Monster asked wearily, not really angry, but wanting this to go right; wanting this to be right; wanting it so badly that it was like an ache inside his chest, one that seemed would never go away. It was like silver knives in a unicorn's side: burning, aching, hissing through his veins, making him want to cry out in pain and sorrow, seeing his long, long life pass before his very, weary eyes.

And then he was back, and the little blue-skinned Cordelia was looking at him with her child's eyes, begging him not to be angry, begging him not to because her intentions were good, and pure, and she had so wanted to help him because she knew, just like his faithful – but clumsy – servant, Gilmo, knew that he was dying. It would only be a matter of a few weeks now, and he would die. And with him would die his whole hope for himself, and what future he might have had, and the future of this forest and it's magical inhabitants.

"Papa?" Cordelia asked in a small voice. She was the only one permitted to call him that, since she was the youngest of his enchanted subjects, and he had become like a father to her, saving her from the poachers who had tried to kill and stuff her when she had strayed too far to the forest's edge fifty years ago. The poachers hadn't lived to tell anyone about her.

"Yes, yes," he muttered to himself. "I know, I know. I know you had the best of intentions, but you shouldn't have done it all the same. She will condemn me if she does not find the way herself. You and Milos were only permitted to give her a small piece of guidance: the rhyme that I gave you.

"Milos is an idiot," she muttered. "He doesn't care about anyone but himself."

The Monster laughed, really laughed, for the first time in years. It sounded like the roar of a predator, about to strike. But Cordelia knew him well enough to not be frightened of his beastly laughter. "Of course he doesn't," the Monster said, wiping the tears of mirth from his eyes with a claw. "That is the way he has been made. He cares only for practical jokes, and whenever it's played on a stranger, it's especially delightful to him and his kind. The only reason he actually followed my orders is because I threatened him. That's the only thing that works with him, and even then he has to confuse them into thinking that what he said was not true."

"So, you're not mad?" Cordelia asked after a long moment, her voice small again. "I sang that song that you didn't want me to sing, and you're not mad?" She asked again.

The Monster sighed. "No, I'm not," he said. "But you're not to speak to them, or even go within a mile of their presence, understand?" He said, the worry etched on his furred brow.

She nodded, and turned to leave, but then stopped. "Why can't we sing that song?" She asked. "It's not like anyone remembers it. Those who first sung it are long dead."

He looked at her for a moment, his expression unreadable. "Because humans wrote it," he replied. "They wrote it to mock me and my misfortune because I refused to help anyone when they were in trouble. And so, the did not help me, and send all their girls away to marry somewhere else. Only once the girls were married would they allow them to return, and then it was too late; the transformation was complete."

Cordelia looked at him sadly again, and then went up to him and took his hand. "It will happen!" She said in a fierce whisper. "It must!"

He gently squeezed her fingers, but even so one of his claws drew a little violet blood. She didn't flinch, even when he let go. All she did was place her hand in the water of the River of Tears, and when she drew it out, it was completely healed.

"I may be immortal," she said, putting her hand on his shoulder. "But though you have lived longer than I, you are not."

Then she left, leaving the Monster to his unbearable thoughts, while Gilmo stood faithfully and nervously beside him, with the towel draped over his arm once more. "Next time," the Monster addressed the gnome," don't leave the cave. _Ever_."

-

When I woke, the air was cool, signaling to me that it was either night, or night was just ending. I stood up, and it was then when I saw the bird. It was sitting on the ground, it's nest not two feet away. And in the air, swinging on the wind as the sun was beginning to rise, another bird flew – perhaps the mate of the first- and it sung a song that was both beautiful and sad.

The singing lark.

We were almost there.

**AN: Another chapter? Holy crap! It's incredible! Four chapters in one week! Amazing!**

**Review, please, and let me know what you think:)**


	17. Black and Dark

Chapter 17 – Black and Dark

I raised my head, just barely, and looked around. I was still too tired to rise, thought it was late morning, and I could hear Ilana and Duncan breathing quietly a little ways away. Every so often, a snore would pierce the silence, and I knew Duncan was definitely asleep. The first time I heard him snore, I had decided that I could never have a crush on a man who snored. It was vulgar, in my mind. Now, something like that seemed so trivial compared to the place where we were now.

What did my family think? Was Bryanne delighted that I had left, but remorse that Ilana was gone? What was my mother doing? How was she managing without me? The questions swirled about in my mind, questions I had tried so hard to put off and ignore. But still they found their way to me, crept up and tackled me until I was broken, bleeding, and left for dead.

I blew out a gust of air, trying to get my unruly hair away from my face. It seemed even more of a reddish color in the morning light. The light shone through the trees, and was aimed straight at my face. I tried to recall the rhyme that both Milos and Cordelia had sung, but found that I couldn't.

"Water," I whispered out of my cracked lips. We had run out the day before, and all of us were parched with the intense heat that had plagued us for the past few days. We had tried to conserve water, but all the same it had run out, and now Ilana and Duncan were both passed out on the ground not far away, while I struggled to stay awake; struggled to stand. But even with all the strength left in me, I couldn't. Instead, I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, hoping to become rejuvenated by the rest. I didn't want to think of what would happen when the sun was at its peak, beating down upon my motionless body while I lay there, unconscious. I would be baked to crisp, until I was as black and dark as the burnt crust of a pie.

_Black and dark…_

Of course! That had been the rhyme! But even though I remembered it, tried to hold onto it, I slipped into unconsciousness, and fell asleep, trying to recite the poem in my mind the way I'd heard Cordelia sing it in her child's voice.

_Go past the tree with pale white bark._

_Head north until you hear the singing lark._

_Beyond, the night is black and dark._

_There the King is…_

-

I woke just as the sun was setting. I smelled smoke, and when I turned, I saw that Duncan and Ilana had woken and built a fire not far away.

"I found a stream," Duncan said without preamble. "I filled our waterskins, and Ilana made a cup from tree bark. She filled it with water so we wouldn't have to go back to the stream."

I nodded, and took the cup from her hands gratefully. I noticed as she passed it to me that her hands seemed more weathered than they had when we had been living in that small house beside the forest. It was surprising how much she had changed since the beginning of our journey weeks ago. I couldn't remember how long it had been, but I thought it to be almost a month. The village probably thought we were all dead by now. I didn't dwell on that thought, for I knew that if I did, I would surely cry, and I didn't want to cry right then.

Instead, I took a long draught of the water in the cup, emptying it as I quenched the unbearable thirst that had been plaguing me for the past two days.

"I heard the lark," I said as I put the cup down, licking my cracked lips. Scabs had formed over them. Night was falling, and it was becoming unbearably cold. I couldn't understand why the weather was so different in the forest from the weather in the village. It was close to winter, so should have been unbearably cold during the day and night, not hot during the day and cold at night. It made no sense, but neither did anything else about the forest.

"When?" Ilana asked. Duncan grunted and muttered something under his breath in his native tongue.

"This morning, I think," I replied, taking a bite out of the roast meat that Duncan handed me. I didn't ask what it was; I suspected it was an ordinary rat, and hoped that it wasn't something enchanted.

"Then that means we're almost there," she replied, turning to Duncan for some sort of congratulations. I knew she wouldn't receive any.

"So what?" He asked rhetorically. He turned to me. "It means nothing. The monster was wounded when Silas and your father fought him. It's probably dead by now, and we've been traipsing around this God-forsaken forest for nothing."

"Not for nothing," I replied, huddling in front of the fire. "There is something wrong here; something that should be fixed. And I intend to fix it. You can go back if you like, but I will continue on until I find the source of the problem and do what I can to fix it." I stood. "In the meantime, I think that we should sleep during the day, and travel by night."

Ilana looked at me, scared. She obviously was remembering the large cat that Duncan had shot.

"Besides," I added, finished my meat quickly and grabbing my pack and waterskin, "the rhyme talked about 'black and dark'. That probably means that we have to travel at night."

Duncan muttered something under his breath, Ilana turned slightly red, and I didn't deign to reply. It wasn't my problem. I would go on without him, if I had to. I shrugged. "Suit yourself," I said, and began to leave."

"Wait!" Duncan cried, but his voice died away as my foot met empty air.

I screamed as I fell down, down into darkness, hearing Ilana and Duncan calling me from very far away. I felt my legs hit hard earth, and then my head followed, my ears ringing. I tasted blood, and when I put my hand to my head, it was sticky. In the dark, I couldn't see anything, but I knew from the touch and the smell that I was bleeding.

I lay my head down on the ground, my temples throbbing. I was lucky I wasn't dead, I knew, but at that moment, with the pain in my head pounding away at me, I felt that death might have been the better alternative.

I raised my head slightly, trying to see in the dark, but the blackness was complete, and there was nothing to be seen. All that I could hear was the faint rushing sound of water. My head hurt, so I lay it down on the ground again as gently as I could.

I heard Duncan's voice from above, sounding angry, with a hint of worry. Then Ilana's, sounding frightened. Were they coming to get me?

A light appeared above me, and I saw someone being lowered down into the pit where I had fallen.

Duncan rested his feet down, and yelled up very loudly – at least, it seemed loud to my throbbing head – that he was down, and that Ilana could go back to the fire, which was only a few feet away from the pit. Then he knelt down beside me, and held the torch over my head. I groaned, to let him know I was still alive.

"It hurts," I murmured. I thought I'd lost a tooth, possibly two, but I could tell among all the blood in my mouth. I coughed, spitting up blood.

Duncan helped me sit up, causing my head to swim. I pushed him away, and vomited to the side of the pit, coughing and hacking blood with what was left of my dinner. Duncan held a waterskin to my mouth, and I drank gratefully.

"This," he said, sounding angry, "is why you don't just walk away. You could have been killed."

I coughed again, when I had wanted to laugh, thinking the comment to be funny, which was odd since I nearly had lost my life. I leaned my head against his chest, resting, my breathing heavy from how much my head was swimming.

I thought at first that it must have been a trick of the dark, it being completely black in the pit, but I thought I saw a door, not three feet away from where we were sitting, Duncan dabbing at my head with a strip of cloth torn from the bottom of his pants. He saw that I was staring at something and followed my gaze. I heard him suck in his breath.

"You see it, too?" I asked, questioning my own sanity.

He nodded. Then he called up to Ilana. "We found it!"

"Found what?" She called back down. I looked up and saw Duncan's skinning knife in her hand. It looked bloody, but it must have been a trick of the firelight trickling down from the opening.

"The reference to 'black and dark' from the rhyme," he called back. All the yelling made my head hurt even more than before.

A short while later, Duncan climbed back up to help Ilana scale down into the pit. He then climbed down after her with the aid of a rope that he had tied to a secure tree branch. When he dropped down, Ilana was already helping me to my feet.

The darkness seemed to swim around me, and for a long moment, I thought that Ilana's and Duncan's voices sounded watery – as though we were swimming in a vast sea of dark. But then a light appeared quite suddenly from the doorway we had found. It trickled underneath the stone door like lamplight, warning of approach.

Duncan helped Ilana take me to one side of the door, and he took the other side, ready for approach. When the door opened, a small person stuck his head out. Duncan struck without warning, hitting the creature over the head with the butt of his gun. To his surprise, and ours, the blow didn't even slow the man down, instead jarring Duncan to the point where he was visibly shaking for a full minute. The small man turned to Duncan, holding up an oil lamp.

"We gnomes have extremely thick skulls," he explained, and with that, he beckoned us to follow. Shrugging, I made as if to follow, but Ilana grabbed my arm and helped me along. After a brief second of indecision, Duncan followed, albeit grudgingly, as the small creature, led us into the dark tunnel. The door closed soundlessly behind us, sending a shiver up my spin.

There was no where else to go, but forward.

**AN: There is chapter 17! Boy, am I getting excited. I know how it's going to end, although I don't have every chapter planned out, but I really am looking forward to writing more. I took on an extra course – a mentoring course for students who have English as a second language – so I won't have as much time to write, but I will write as often as I can. Review, please, and let me know what you think:) CC is welcome, flames are not.**


	18. Refuge

Chapter 18 – Refuge

I limped along beside Duncan, he following Ilana, who was in turn following our gnomish guide. I was still feeling nauseous, but the feeling was slowly ebbing, turning into a skull-crushing headache. Ilana had handed me over to Duncan after stumbling twice. I was unable to support my own weight, and as a result, I could do more than limp along the best that I could, feeling like a dead weight.

The only light was the one that our gnome guide held, leading us along the twisting tunnel, deep underground. I wasn't claustrophobic; I had never been scared of small spaces. But if Bryanne had been here, she would have either fainted or thrown up by now. She was terrified of tight spaces.

Thinking about Bryanne being afraid made me smile, even in that dark and frightening place. As much as I disliked her, though, I didn't wish her ill, and was glad that she had stayed home.

After what seemed like forever, the tunnel branched out into two different tunnels. The gnome stopped for a minute to let us catch our breath, and in that time I noticed two things: One, that there was a warm light coming from one of the tunnels, and two, that the sound of water lapping against a shore.

After we had caught our breath, our guide led us down the tunnel from which the light came. The sound of water quieted, but did not completely fade. As the light grew brighter, the smell of roast meat rose to my nostrils, making me nauseous again. I still had a headache, and didn't want to think about food – I just wanted to lie in the dark with a damp cloth on my forehead and go to sleep. Unfortunately, I was to wait for that because we then entered a room that was filled with a warm light.

Right across from the entrance, was a large sofa, it's cushions beckoning me to sit down, and to the left of it, facing the opposite wall, was a chair covered in the same orange-red upholstery. In the corner beside this chair, and also beside the couch, was a small table with a glass vase of flowers, possibly fresh, but I was unsure of that. Beside the chair was a brick fireplace with a cheery fire crackling inside it. A grate was set in front of it to prevent careless visitors from falling in.

The rug was a woven mat of brown, which complemented the fire tones in the room, and the wood paneled walls were strange to me. I had never seen walls that were purposely covered with wood. Most of the houses in our village had wooden walls because we couldn't afford to use brick, or stone. Only Silas' house was made of stone, and even that wasn't as good as brick, held together with mortar.

On the wall across from the chair and the fireplace was a small table, presumably for playing cards. On this table was a small case made of wood. Plain, yet intriguing. But it didn't intrigue me enough to distract me from my massive headache.

"You may stay here until he comes," our guide said.

I groaned at having to sit in the well-lit room. As inviting as it appeared, a darkened room with a small cot on the ground would have seemed better to my hammering head. My stomach reeled as Duncan tried to get a better grip around my waist. At any other time, I might have blushed, by my modesty had been overtaken by my desire to walk.

"Can't you see she's injured?" Ilana demanded indignantly. She placed her hands on her hips, shaking slightly, whether with weariness or fear, I didn't know.

The gnome shook his head. "I am sorry that your friend is injured," he said politely, "but there is nothing I can do. I am only following instructions. Wait here, and I will speak with him and see if he is ready to see you yet." Then he turned around and went back the way we had come, the stone door closing behind him.

"Stupid, ignorant piece of rock!" Ilana muttered, and she swore under her breath. I wasn't feeling well enough to be surprised by this. I just wanted to lie down, so Duncan lowered me onto the couch, where I could stretch out, and covered me with a blanket that was hanging over the chair. Ilana set one of the throw pillows under my head, and I curled up, trying to think of something else so I could sleep. But nevertheless, I heard Duncan and Ilana talking in hushed voices.

"We should have turned back the moment I suspected something," Duncan was insisting. "It has gotten too dangerous, and no matter what happens, we have to think of our safety before the safety of this King, or whatever he is." Here he lowered his voice so that it was barely audible. "If you ask me," he said, "this King is just the monster we're after. The moment he walks through that door, I'll kill him, and we can go home and get out of the retched place before we end up someone's next meal."

"Duncan, as much as I agree on the going home part, we can't leave Isabella here by herself," Ilana replied quietly. "She's not going to follow us; she's too stubborn for that."

"It's as if she doesn't even remember what that creature did to her father!" He muttered, seemingly half to himself.

"He was my father, too," Ilana said quietly.

Duncan seemed hushed by that, and said no more. Still, though his reminder of what the monster had done to my father rang in my ears, and there was a rushing sound inside my head. I tried to turn, but fell off the couch. I was asleep before my head hit the ground.

-

"They are here, Majesty," the gnome said, bowing deeply.

The Monster nodded absent-mindedly.

The gnome stood there silently for a minute. "I will be there soon," he said. "In the meantime, get them something to eat and drink. They must be tired from their long journey. If I am not there two hours, then offer to have one of the she-gnomes draw the women a bath, and you will draw the man a bath. If they decline, that is their prerogative.

"Yes, Majesty," the gnome bowed again, and left the room.

His gnome servants were faithful to him… when this was all over, he would do what he could to reward them.

_She came_, he thought, as he sat down in front of the fire. _She actually came_.

**AN: Sorry it's taken so long to update. I had this chapter finished, thought I'd posted it, then found out that I hadn't. So, sorry about that. Review, please, and let me know what you think:) CC is welcome, flames are not.**


	19. The King

Chapter 19 – The King

Chapter 19 – The King

I woke to the smell of roast meat. My headache had left while I slept and I was now feeling refreshed, aside from the growling of my stomach. Since I had thrown up my last meal, it was safe to say that I hadn't had anything to eat in at least a day. Although, truth be told, I had no idea how long I had been asleep.

I sat up on the couch and looked around. The room was smaller than I remembered, and I right away noticed a second door that I hadn't seen when I'd first entered. It was half hidden by a large tapestry that, at a distance, appeared to be of a monster holding a dying woman. Upon closer inspection, I saw that the tapestry was divided into two pictures. The one on the left was of a man holding a dying woman with blond hair, and the parallel picture was of a monster holding a dying woman with reddish gold hair.

The tapestry made me uncomfortable, so I ignored it and tried the handle. It was locked. "Well, that's helpful," I muttered to myself. I turned back around to face the rest of the room.

A steaming tray of food was set on a low table in front of the couch. I sat down and surveyed the potential meal. Mashed potatoes with gravy, mixed vegetables with string beans, and a large steak sat on a plate. There was a glass of water, and one of wine, in front of the plate, and on the right side was the knife, while the left held the fork. There was a bowl of mushroom soup sitting beside the plate.

My stomach rumbled, and I sniffed the food cautiously. Then, my stomach and my head in agreement, I threw caution to the wind, and dug in with ravenous hunger. The meal was divine, and though I was quite full by the time it was over, I was sorry that I had finished it so soon.

It was only after I'd finished eating that I realized Ilana and Duncan were missing. I couldn't leave through the second door to find them, but neither could I exit through the one I'd entered from. As far as I knew, it only led to the tunnel that led back outside.

I decided to sit and wait for someone to come. More than likely, the monster or a servant of his would come and then I would be able to get this whole ordeal over and done with. But first I had to find Ilana and Duncan.

While I waited, I closed my eyes and tried to relax. The stress and tension of the last month was getting to me, and I was trying to calm myself, when I heard someone enter the room. I opened my eyes and saw the gnome who had led us here standing in the doorway, carrying a lantern. He beckoned me to follow him.

I didn't move. "Where are my friends?" I demanded, remaining seated and folding my arms over my chest.

The gnome looked at me blankly for a moment. "They are resting," he said flatly. "Please follow". Then he turned and left the room.

After a moment, I followed him. I didn't trust him, but the way I saw it, if he was planning on taking me to the monster, then I could get this over with.

The gnome guided me back the way I had originally come – although it was difficult to tell in the gloom. The sound of rushing water reached my ears again, as it had when I had first entered the tunnel. I thought about Ilana and Duncan. Where were they?

The gnome turned around and faced through a side tunnel that rested to the left of the one we had just exited. I remembered seeing two tunnels earlier, and came to the conclusion that the monster must live away from the rest of this underground house. The sound of water grew closer.

The tunnel opened up after a few minutes, and I saw the source of the sound: A massive underground lake lay before me. Stalactites hung from the ceiling, glittering with a pale silvery light. The water shone as though moonlight was drifting on it, and there was an odd, faint mist drifting over its glassy surface. I saw a small hole near where I stood from which water poured. _It's man-made then_, I thought.

"You may go, Gilmo," a deep, scratchy voice said.

_Gilmo?_ I thought. _Wasn't he that creature that Duncan saved from the wildcat?_ I didn't have time to ask because the moment that Gilmo had left, I saw it.

Out of the mist walked a creature on two legs, when he should have walked on four. He wore a tattered, loose tunic of a pale color over broad shoulders covered in thick tufts of dark chestnut fur, just like the rest of his body. He wore a pair of tattered black trousers over thick, muscled calves, and I knew that one leap, and he could be on top of me in seconds, ripping my body to shreds. His yellow eyes gleamed at me in the gloom with an unreadable expression and two pale white tusks protruded from his mouth. His ears were pointed like a cat's, and he had a pair of tiny horns poking from the top of his head. His teeth were pointed and yellowed. Long claws protruded from his fingers and when he saw me staring, he held his hands behind his back.

My heart beat faster as I continued to stare. He took a step forward, and then I realized how tall he was. He looked like he was nearly seven feet tall. Enormous and terrifying, he loomed over my small figure.

I swallowed hard and tried to speak, but it came out as a squeak of terror.

The monster stopped his advance, seeing my horrified expression.

I cleared my throat and spoke again. This time my voice was stronger, echoing off the cavern walls. "Where are my friends?" My voice sounded stronger than I felt, and that gave me courage.

"They have been given food to eat and beds to rest in. At the moment, they are sleeping," the monster replied. It sounded as though he was trying to make his voice sound quieter, perhaps so as not to agitate me further.

There was a long pause. I remembered that night, a month ago, when the monster had stopped the celebrations and killed my father. In cold blood. For no reason.

I clenched my fists at my sides. He would have to pay for that.

-

She was beautiful, just as he remembered. She wouldn't have remembered, of course, because she hadn't seen him then. But he remembered…

She had been about twelve years old when he first saw her. He was patrolling the borders of his domain when she ran into the forest – _his_ forest – and began to cry excessively. She spoke aloud to herself about how her mother was sick, possibly dying.

He had planned on killing her. But when he saw her sitting there, her fiery red hair in matted curls around her face and her emerald green eyes filled with tears, he could't bring himself to hurt her. Her pale skin gleamed in the afternoon light

Although she might have seemed plain to someone else, to him she was even more beautiful than Ariona had been all those years ago.

So, along with many of the magical creatures to whom he was King, he concocted a medicine to cure her mother, for he couldn't bear to see her crying. He crept to her home at night himself, and placed it in the house, in the prepared meal for the morning. It would be harmless to someone without the illness, but to her mother it would cure her.

Sure enough, she came back, and she was no longer crying in sorrow, but in relief because her mother was recovering.

Now, as he stood there, his eyes transfixed on her face, he recalled what had happened all those years ago…

**AN: I know its taken forever for me to update, and some of you were in the middle of reading this chapter when I deleted it so I could repost it with a better version, and for that I apologize. There has been a lot going on in the last few weeks that has kept me very busy. I had no time during Spring Break to type up the last chapters (although I've nearly finished writing them all; I'm on chapter 22), but I am hoping to be able to finish the story before the end of April. After that, exams start, and I'm going to be busy again.**

**So, for the moment, this chapter is here, and I hope you enjoy it! Review, please, and let me know what you think! CC is welcome, flames are not. :)**


	20. The Enchantment

Chapter 20 – A Deal

Chapter 20 – The Enchantment

A hundred years ago, the land was peaceful and prosperous. There was one king ruling the land at the time. His wife, the queen, had died in childbirth, leaving behind her a baby boy. The king named him Tristan, for it means "sorrowful", and a wise woman once prophesied that he would lead a sorrowful life.

The boy was raised by his father and nursemaids to be a perfect gentleman, and he was such. His oldest nursemaid was like a mother to him, and she often called him her "little gentleman", because he was so polite.

For the first eighteen years of his life, Tristan was a happy, handsome lad. The court ladies all loved his company, and his appearance, for he was the most attractive lad in the courts, with jet-black hair and piercing blue eyes. At eighteen, he was six foot and three inches, and towered above all his friends and peers.

He courted many young women, for when he first met them, they were coy and beautiful. But soon he they made a mistake and revealed their true colors, and their true intentions. They all just wanted to marry him for his looks, and for his title and money. As the only prince, he would one day become king.

He was even courted by the faerie queen, whom he had denied flatly without waiting to see what she was really like. He knew her for her vanity and lack of generosity, just as everyone did. She was furious, and left in a huff. And still Tristan felt like her would never find the right woman to spend the rest of his life with.

Then _she_ came. She was beautiful, sweet, kind, generous. She was his angel, sent from heaven to comfort him in his sorrow. Her name was Ariona, and she was the perfect one for him. She was herself always, constantly honest. His dear heart.

He waited a year and a half before proposing to her. When he did, the kingdom celebrated their betrothal with singing, dancing, food and wine. The happy couple sat on a large dais, with the King beside the groom-to-be. All was merry.

But then Queen Adellia showed up. She was furious. She had told him already to marry her, and he had refused. Now she gave him one last chance. She demanded that he go with her right then and there, or else his whole kingdom would suffer.

For the first time in his life, Tristan showed a twinge of arrogance, and flat out refused. "I marry only for love," he said. "And I don't love you."

Adellia's beautiful face grew dark as thunder, and her features became demonic, her eyes turning red, her hair becoming black as night, and her mouth turning into a gaping maw. "Then you will never love again!" She growled, and pointed her finger at Ariona. A trickle of red lightning shot from her fingers, striking Ariona in the heart. There wasn't even a scream.

Tristan screamed, then, feeling terror and sadness for the first time in his life.

Her face still dark with fury, Adellia waved her hands and transformed the whole kingdom into a vast coniferous forest. The castle became an underground cave, and the people were turned into animals and creatures that no one had ever seen before. Creatures with wings and blue skin who became known as the Elysii, and creatures with long brown tails that resembled the monkeys of distant lands, who were know simply as the Redimere.

Tristan himself became the kind of creature nightmares create, with shaggy brown fur, yellow eyes, fangs, claws and twin horns sprouting from the top of his head.

Then, because even she had to follow the faerie rules, Adellia recited a song; her condemnation to Tristan, and his only chance for escape:

"_The Queen bade the King,_

_make her a ball of fire,_

_for he held within his grasp,_

_all of her desire._

_The King refused this joy,_

_though she wept and plead_

_for him to not be cruel;_

_though she threatened him with death._

_But even such a threat as this_

_could not sway his choice,_

_and so she silenced him,_

_and she stole his voice._

_The prince lives all alone now,_

_in his castle made of stone._

_So he must live a thousand years,_

_so he must atone._

_There is no solution_

_but that she with the fiery light_

_bring him from the darkness_

_and end his tortured night."_

"But if I have anything to say about it, there will never be a sign of fiery light in the 100 years I give you to live. If nothing happens after that, then you will die miserable and alone. Trust me; this will never happen." She smiled smugly as Tristan looked around himself in horror.

The old king saw what had happened, and died of shock, his old heart giving out like an old shack flattened by a strong wind.

In the first ten years, the Elysii were all but obliterated through violence, confusion and war with the non-magical creatures of the world that had found the forest and made a home of it. They didn't know how to survive as animals – magical or otherwise. So Tristan, in his state of grief, took it upon himself to take care of these creatures, wanting so much to help them; to repay them for the horror he had brought upon them. He became like a father to his people.

The gnomes, who had always kept to themselves, knew that if this place were destroyed; if Tristan died without having been cured of his enchantment, then there would be no peace for them among humans. They served Tristan and were his guides and aides. But the only way to lift the enchantment was to find _her_.

For though Queen Adellia was ruler of all the faeries, and was capable of extraoridinary things that could cause happiness or sorrow, there were rules that had been set down by the faeire gods, and even she in her vanity wouldn't dare to disobey them. Not even she could disobey them. The biggest and most important of these was that, when enchanting a person, there must be a way, however slim, for the person to break the enchantment.

So though she punished Tristan, she gave him a way out: A girl would come, according to the song, who would save him. No one knew how, though.

Tristan spoke with the gnomes, who were known for having the gift of prophecy. Only one old gnome told him how: She would have to die, for him to live. Hopelessness sinking in, Tristan thanked the old gnome, but knew that no woman in her right mind would die for him; it would not happen. To make things worse, the old gnome also told him that the way to recognize her would be by her hair.

Queen Adellia, using her faerie powers, found this out as well, and became determined to make sure that nothing like that happened. She put fear in the hearts of the people of the rest of the world, who had lived in the borders around Tristan's land. She used enchantments, and any child that was born with fiery hair died in a few days. The people didn't see the pattern, because the Queen had shielded their eyes from her powers.

But after a long while, she got bored, as she was wont to do, and forgot about Tristan. She became even more arrogant than before, and she stopped paying attention to the people. A few got through the cracks, and as the years went by, more and more children were born with the red hair.

But the fear of the enchanted forest remained in the people's hearts, and the song of Tristan's redemption was silenced.

**AN: There is chapter 20! I know it's like a prelude to the whole story, but I felt that because of the way I had written it, it was better for it to be placed near the end of the story (yes, we're nearing the end I hope of the story; a few more chapters I think, and then it'll be done.)**

**Anyways, review please and let me know what you think! CC is welcome, flames are not. :)**


	21. Questions

Chapter 21 – Questions

Chapter 21 – Questions

"Why?" I asked suddenly. The monster seemed to start from his reverie. "Why?" I repeated. "Why did you kill him? Why?" My voice grew stronger with every word as my anger became stronger. "What did he do to you but try to defend himself? You seem to be able to stand on two legs like a man, though you're not one! So perhaps you can tell me why someone who walks in a civilized way could be so uncivilized? Hm?"

"I had no choice," he said after a long moment, his voice sounding like grating metal. "He would have killed me if I had not defended myself." He was quiet; morose. Perhaps he was sorry for his crime, but I wasn't about to be deterred.

"So that's it, then?" I demanded. "You had no choice, and that's an excuse for murder? You're such an – "

"Animal?" He said cynically.

My voice died in my throat. I cleared it. "Yes," I replied. "You are just as you appear: I hideous monster." I wasn't thinking clearly, and didn't think through my words before I spoke them. After the fact, it was too late to take them back, and I swallowed hard, realizing my error.

"It may seem perfectly alright to you to want to kill someone else just to save your own skin," I said quietly, "but it's not. You're a murderer." I became suddenly angry again, and screamed at him, "You're a murderer! I aught to kill you myself!"

To my surprise and horror, the monster took a step forward and roared, loud and long, the sound echoing off of the cavern walls.

I screamed, and fell backwards, terrified that he was going to kill me like he had my father. I didn't want to die.

"Don't torment me further!" He roared. Then he swept his hands towards the water. "Look upon my suffering, and see if you have any reason to judge me!"

Unwillingly, my eyes were drawn to the mist floating above the water. My mouth opened wide at what I saw: Faces were floating the mist like spirits of the dead. Their mouths were open, as though they were screaming. Some looked like they were crying, some begging, and a few happy. There were old, young, men women, children, and even infants.

"What sorcery is this?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

"These are all the people who have died because of me," he replied. "Most are my people. A few are yours."

To my horror, I then saw my father's face among them. He was smiling, and looking right at me. "Papa!" I screamed, and moved towards his face. Tears ran down my cheeks in sudden rivers.

But before I could take a step into the water, the monster grabbed me from behind and pulled me back by the back of my dress. He threw me against the stone wall, and my head swam. "If you go in there, you will die," he hissed in a low voice. "Only the immortal may visit the dead."

A moment passed in silence as the damp air rested on my bare arms. "So, are you immortal, then?" I asked slowly.

The monster's back was to me. He seemed to shudder as he took a breath, and then spoke. "To an extent," he replied quietly. He turned to face me. "I will still die," he said. "I only have a few years left."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because that is my fate," he replied.

"But why is it your fate?" I repeated.

He turned to me again, with that infinite sadness in his eyes. "Because I refused a maiden's hand, she condemned me to this fate until I either die or accept. But she lengthened my life." He turned away from me. "That is all I can tell you."

I thought about what Queen Adellia had said when I had asked where to find the monster. She had been worried, and then didn't tell us how after promising she would. At the time, I didn't find it strange because she was a vain thing, and the biggest thing on her mind was her beauty. But as I sat there, thinking, I knew the truth.

"Queen Adellia," I whispered to myself.

The monster turned on me, having heard what I'd said. "What do you know of the Queen?" He demanded. "What do you know of anything?" He screamed at me, and then he punched the rock wall by my head.

I flinched, and a tear squeezed out of my eye again. I thought about home, and how much I missed my family. I missed Freya and Naveen, I missed Mother, and even Bryanne. But most of all, I missed Father. I buried my face in my knees, wrapping my arms around my legs. I was trying to control myself; pull myself together.

Then I heard someone sobbing, heaving great sighs. I looked up and saw a man with piercing blue eyes and jet-black hair kneeling on the stone floor, crying horribly, his body wracking with sobs. He was wearing a tattered cream-colored tunic, and dirty black trousers. His feet were bare.

"Now you see me as I once was," he said, taking great gulps of air. He was probably attractive when he wasn't crying, but he didn't look all that great with his eyes red, and his nose running. He wiped his eyes, and then blew his nose with a handkerchief. It was shredded by the time he was done, and I realized that what I was seeing was only an illusion.

"I wasn't always a Beast," he said, his voice echoing softly off of the cavern walls. A tear trickled down his cheek as his eyes turned in my direction, and took on a faraway look. For some reason, though I had calmed down, my heart started to beat faster, in fear. Then his body changed shape and he turned back into his true form: the monster.

"You're a man?" I gasped in a whisper. "How?" I spluttered. "Why?" I paused. "And why did you show me?"

He raised his great shaggy head and looked at me, tears sparkling in the corners of his yellow eyes. "The tale is long," he said finally, "and even if I had the time, I couldn't tell it to you." He stood on shaking lefs and held out his hand to help me up.

"Why not?" I asked, cautiously taking his clawed hand. As he pulled me up, his claws scratched my hand. "Ow!" I cried, pulling my hand back, a thin line of blood trickling down my hand. As I watched, the blood ran to the side of my hand and dripped onto the stone floor.

Time seemed to stop as both of us stared at the blood falling slowly to the ground. The mist hung heavy in the air, seeming to sink farther down until it touched the ground like a fog. When the damp air came in contact with my blood, it turned a bright fiery orange. It flickered and licked across the stone like real fire.

"She with the fiery light," the monster murmured to himself.

I didn't hear him. There was a roaring in my ears, and the sound of rushing water. Cordelia's voice sang a song in my head, but I couldn't follow the words. My knees buckled under me and I was unconscious before my head hit the floor.

**AN: Review, please, and let me know what you think! CC is welcome, flames are not. :)**


	22. Confusion

Chapter 22 – Confusion

When I woke, Ilana and Duncan's concerned faces were hovering over me. Startled, I cried out, scaring them. Both fell onto their backsides. After a moment, Ilana let out a shaky giggle and stood up. Grumbling, Duncan followed suit, and dusted himself off.

I looked around myself as I sat up. I was sitting up in a four-poster bed with a canopy of a deep carmine red similar to the one I'd slept in when I'd been Queen Adellia's prisoner. The biggest difference between this room and the one in the faerie palace was that there wasn't a window. In its place was a large hanging mirror, with a Latin inscription around the top of the frame.

The walls were bare stone, and where the closet had been in the palace room, there was a tapestry like the one in the receiving room, where Ilana, Duncan and I had first appeared. In the opposite corner to the tapestry was a small bookshelf. Upon closer inspection later on, I found that the books were mostly old faerie tales, from at least a hundred years ago.

On either side of the bed was a small bed-side table, and a lamp. Each table had three drawers, and the wood was a burnished mahogany. Beside the left-hand table was a desk, where letters could be written, and in the opposite corner of the desk was a small easy chair, wherein a person could sit and read.

I threw back the swan's down covers and stood up. I was wearing my shabby dress, and I felt like a filthy peasant girl who had been caught sleeping in her mistress' bed.

"Are we still underground?" I asked, to distract from my filthiness.

"Yes," Duncan replied. And then added, as though trying to irritate me, "No thanks to you."

Ilana sent him an icy stare and turned back to me.

Duncan's words were successful in irritating me, but I did my best not to let it show.

"What happened?" Ilana asked, changing the subject. "Where were you?"

I sat back down on the bed, as daintily as I could, and sighed. "I saw him," I said plainly, as though that would explain everything. And strangely, I felt it _did_ explain everything. There were no other words to describe what I had experienced. I had an absurd urge to laugh when I thought of what the people at home would think of the situation.

Ilana and Duncan both gave me a look.

"Okay," Ilana said slowly, unsure of whether I was joking or not.

"Well, that's helpful," Duncan added sarcastically. I sent him a look, and he turned his head away.

"I spoke to him." I stared at the floor, thinking. I had been doing a lot of that of late. Then I raised my head. "There's something wrong with him."

"There's a surprise," Duncan added, having regained his voice quickly.

"Shut up," Ilana retorted.

Duncan looked stricken.

"I'm getting sick of your sarcastic comments, Duncan," she said. "If you don't shut up, I'll have to take that musket and hit you over the head with it. Maybe _that_ will teach you to keep your thoughts to yourself." She turned to me. "Could you please elaborate?" She asked politely. She glared at Duncan, daring him to challenge her.

He said nothing, and I began to explain. "I think he's under an enchantment," I said. "He used to be human.

"Apparently, not anymore," Duncan muttered under his breath.

Ilana reached for his musket, which was leaning against the bed. I grabbed it first. "Both of you, leave each other alone! Ilana, you're only furthering his goal, of antagonizing us. Duncan, you're an idiot. Go and wait outside. When you're ready to act like a decent person, you can come back."

He glared at me and yanked the musket out of my hands. "I'm taking this with me," he said, and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

"I'm sorry," Ilana said, her face showing that she was truly sorry. "I was just tired of his lip."

"Same here," I sighed. "I will be glad when this is all over and I can go home." But, strangely, I didn't want to go home. I felt like I would never be able to go back to the dull, old life I had lived before. It felt like this was the only solution.

"So what actually happened?" Ilana asked, going back to the previous conversation.

I sighed again and sat down in the big armchair. I put my head in my hands and tried very hard to keep from crying from all the stress. Ilana put her arm around me, and when I lifted my head, she had tears in her eyes. "I know how you feel," she said.

I felt just then, that she was truly my sister, and always had been, Those long-ago times of when she would tag along behind Bryanne and insult me seemed so far away, that they hadn't even happened at all. It was just this sister who seemed to know exactly how I felt, and for the first time, I knew how she felt.

I kept reminding myself that the monster deserved to die; that he had murdered my father, and by his own admission, was responsible for the deaths of others. But I knew that I would never choose to allow Duncan to kill the monster.

I tried to reason that Duncan was right, but every time the first half of me had convinced the other half, the latter would always come up with a rebuttal, and then it would start all over again.

Throughout my life, I had had to be the responsible, mature child, though I was the youngest. My parents had depended on me, while Ilana and Bryanne had looked on with disinterest. Even during our journey, I had had to be patient, courageous and mature, unlike Duncan, who was always too quick on the draw, and Ilana, who was usually silent. It wasn't that Father and Mother had ever told me what to do in case I ever came across an enchanted monster who was killing people. I had to know instinctively what to do, and that kind of responsibility was hard. And then that being captured by the Queen, why had she chosen me out of the three of us? And why not all three of us?

There were so many questions that I didn't have the answers to; questions of why, and who, and where and how. And what was I supposed to do? I had been asked to get rid of the problem through violence, but I had never been an extremely violent person (aside from the slap I'd given Duncan), and so I was against shooting the monster, no matter what he had done.

And yet, at the same time, I couldn't be objective, and I wanted to tear the monster apart with my bare hands. The monster deserved to die, and yet at the same time, I didn't feel it was right. I tried convincing myself that Duncan had every right to want to shoot the monster; that the monster had murdered my father in cold blood. But I still couldn't bring myself to want to kill the monster. And then, thinking about it more, I wanted him dead more than anything.

But when I thought about his human form, how sad his eyes had been; how he had looked so fully of weariness, ready to die. But there was something in those eyes more than just despair: hope. He had looked at me with hope. That was the emotion I had never been able to name; it was hope. But why would he be looking at me like that?

"What can I do?" I asked myself in a whisper. I sighed and wiped my eyes. After we had both calmed down somewhat, I told Ilana the whole story of what had happened. Then I explained my dilemma the way I saw it.

She was very quiet after I had finished speaking, and she had only interrupted once to verify what I was saying.

"I don't know what to do," I said with another sigh, one of many that day.

Ilana paused, and then said softly, "You have to do what you think it right."

"I was afraid you'd say that," I replied. "But you're right, of course," I added. I stood and breathed heavily, preparing myself for the decision to come.

And then I sat down again, because I hadn't made up my mind.

"Either Duncan shoots him, we go home," I began, "or we let him live, and we go home."

Ilana was silent.

"He deserves to die," I began again.

"But does he?" Ilana asked.

"What do you mean?" I queried.

"You said that the faces were those of people who had died _because_ of him. He never specified that they were by his hand. And from what I understand, in Father's case, he did what others would have done when attacked: he fought back. So here's my question: with all of the information you have, do you really think that the monster deserves to die? You said he was already going to die in a few years anyway. Why not just let him live the rest of them in peace?"

"But he's not living in peace," I replied. "He says he is being, and I quote, 'tormented'. I don't know about you, but the last time I checked, that didn't involve feeling at peace."

"Well, then the two options remain still," Ilana said. "The choice is yours, since you were the reason we came here."

"About that," I said, starting to put two and two together, "why is it that he was so intent on staring at _my_ window? Did I do something nice for him at some point when he was human?"

"Well, from what you said, I don't think he's young enough to have been transformed such a short time ago," Ilana replied.

"And Queen Adellia holds a grudge as long as she remembers; she even remembered when I mentioned where we were going. The only thing I don't get is why she didn't hinder us any longer."

"Don't all the old stories say that when a faerie makes a deal, they have to adhere to their side of the bargain?"Ilana asked.

"True," I replied, "but she promised to give us directions, and she didn't."

"Maybe she found a special clause in the deal," Ilana suggested.

"There wasn't a written contract," I said. "It wasn't possible." I sighed for the umpteenth time and stood. "I need to know more before I come to any other conclusion, I think," I said.

"You're probably not going to get any more information out of the monster than you already have," Ilana said pessimistically.

"There's not harm in trying," I replied.

"There is if he decides he doesn't like you anymore," she replied.

"You make me feel so much better," I said sarcastically as I headed for the door. "But I'll take my chances."

"Good luck," Ilana replied as I opened the door.

I looked out. "Where Duncan?" I asked as I entered the empty hall.

"Probably left to swear, or spit or something," Ilana shrugged. She'd always had a dislike of men who acted like they were the icing on the cake, and that dislike was now more prominent than ever.

I smiled. "Probably," I said. "I'll be back in a bit. I think it better if I go alone, so the monster doesn't get nervous."

She nodded, but seemed a little disappointed. "Right," she said. "Good luck!" She called again as I headed down the hall.

**AN: There is chapter 22. Review, please, and let me know what you think! CC is, as always, welcome, but flames are not. :)**


	23. Death

Chapter 23 – Death

"_Come, break me down_

_bury me, bury me._

_I am finished with you._

_Look in my eyes._

_You're killing me, killing me."- The Kill_

The hall was without windows or doors, aside from the door I had left behind me, and one facing me. I headed for the one facing me. It was completely unadorned, like the other one, and ended about a foot above my head. It was about the right height for the monster to enter.

I pushed the door, and it opened smoothly, outwards, as though it had often been in use. Once it was open, I saw something was blocking the exit. I pushed it aside, and it was found to be the tapestry from the first room I had entered.

I closed the door behind me, and found that Duncan wasn't in that room, either. I was beginning to get a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach, but I tried to shrug it off, thinking it was just uneasiness from the encounter to come. I grabbed a torch from sconce on the wall beside the exit, and headed into the blackness.

The door closed behind me, and I shuddered, not knowing what it was that had caused the door to close of its own accord. But now there was no way but forward. I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and began to walk.

The torch flickered in the darkness, and I felt goosebumps rise on my flesh. I swallowed hard, feeling as I walked along that something was not right. As the sound of rushing water got louder, I heard voices mingled with it. There was a distinct rumble, like the shot from a gun, and then a roar.

I dropped the torch on the damp stone in my surprise, and it flickered and went out. I panicked for a moment, but then I felt around and followed the sound of water, until I felt the turn in the stone.

Almost immediately, the adjoining tunnel gave way to the cavernous space where I had first met the monster. The sight I saw caused a chill to run up my spine. The monster was there, with Duncan pinned against the stone wall, both his great giant paws clenched around Duncan's throat.

The monster's snarl scared me half to death, but nevertheless I took a step forward.

Duncan was clawing at the monster's grip, trying to help himself, but just wasting energy. His eyes were getting very large, and he kicked weakly at the monster in one last vain attempt to get the beast to leave him alone.

"Stop!" I yelled, and ran towards the monster.

He turned to me, and the look in his eyes stopped me in my tracks. It was pure animal. He had fallen over the edge.

But then his vision seemed to clear, he seemed to register who I was, and he dropped the barely-conscious Duncan, he fell down like a limp rag doll.

The monster took a step towards me, as though to comfort or explain.

I stepped back, my hands up in defense. "No," I said quietly. I wasn't watching Duncan.

"Isabella," the monster said softly.

"How do you know my name?" I asked. "I never told you."

He seemed to smile sadly, and his arms went limp at his sides. "I can't tell you," he said simply. His gravelly voice seemed more sorrowful than ever.

"You mean just like you can't tell me why you're a beast and not a man, anymore?" I demanded, furious that I wasn't getting the answers I wanted, and that Duncan had ruined my chance to find out the things I needed to know.

He shrugged, but said nothing.

I took that for a confirmation, and glared at him. "Look, leave Duncan alone; he may be clueless, but he's not deserving to die. Neither was my father, for that matter." My words hit their mark, and I could see the pain in his face. For a moment, I regretted the words. I was trying to receive justice, wasn't I? I wasn't sure.

"Can you tell me anything?" I asked softly after a long pause.

Slowly, seemingly without moving, he shook his head. "You can't know," he said. "Not from me."

"I'll never know, will I?" I asked. I already knew the answer.

He seemed sorrowful, and regretful. But it wasn't enough. It would never be enough.

-

Ilana sat on the chair, thinking. She felt like something wasn't right. She knew something was wrong. Somehow, she just knew it. She felt like she should be by Isabella's side, be with her when she faced the beast.

Standing, Ilana strode to the door and threw it open. A feeling of dread coursed through her, and she began to run. She exited the hall and into the small room where the group had first entered the underground home. The sound of voices was loud, and then stopped. Ilana ran down the tunnel, forgetting to grab a light, and not caring. Something told her to keep running, and just run until she got there.

She almost skirted the entrance to the cavern, but then doubled back immediately. She got there in time to take in what was going on.

Isabella was talking to the monster. Both were fine. And then movement behind the monster caught Ilana's eye. Duncan was on the ground. He was holding the gun. He was aiming.

Ilana screamed as the shot rang out in the large cavern.

-

I turned as I heard the scream. And then the shot. It was the slightest movement that changed everything. For a moment, there was nothing. And then the pain began. It started as an irritation, and then became fire. I coughed, blood spurting from my mouth. My horror was worse than the pain.

I put my hand to my stomach, where the blood was flowing freely. Amazingly, I was still on my feet. I looked up and saw Duncan, the gun at his feet, and the shocked look on his face.

"So that's it," I murmured. And then to myself, "I'm coming Papa." It was the last thing I remember before falling into the abyss.

-

The beast's roar was deafening as he caught Isabella's limp body. He lay her down on the rocks gently, and then turned to face Duncan, all his anger focused on him.

"Isabella!" Ilana screamed again, drawing the monster's attention. She ran to her stepsister, bent down and began to weep like a baby. It was all coming back. All the sorrow, all the pain, all the strife; everything that she had pushed away so she could live a normal life. All the memories that she didn't want to keep; that she wished were gone. The memories that were too painful. Memories of her real father, her mother, her sister, and now of Isabella as a child. Kind, quiet Isabella. Always willing to please; always willing to help. She was a little princess to her mother, and Bryanne had always been jealous. Ilana had always admired her, but had wanted to hold onto the relationship with her sister. She realized then that it had been a mistake to treat Isabella so harshly.

There was a flash of light, and triumphantly, a beautiful woman with long blond hair and flashing blue eyes stood by Isabella's body. Ilana remembered Isabella's description of the faerie queen, and knew that this was Queen Adellia. The wings were a dead giveaway, though.

"It is just as I said, Tristan," she declared in triumph, speaking to the beast. "You have paid your crime tenfold now. And now you know what it means to be rejected."

"You were always too proud," the beast replied, staring at Isabella's bleeding body. "Always too arrogant." He looked up. "You still won't have me," he said.

The look on the Queen's face was of fury. Her blue eyes turned blood red, and the pupils became black. Streaks of red ran down her blond hair, and her skin turned ashen with her fury. "You will DIE, Tristan!" She thundered in a voice like hell itself had been released. She raised her arm, presumably to strike him down.

Ilana ducked away to get away from the Queen's fury.

But the beast didn't move. "You can't do anything to me, anymore, Adellia," he said softly. "You have won. You have made my thousand years pure misery. You have killed because of me. And now it has happened again. All those beautiful little girls who died because of your prophecy; the one you had to give, because even you couldn't break the rules. You've done it. Now let me die in peace."

**AN: There is chapter 23! I am SO sorry for not updating, but I've been working full-time, and been applying for university, and a bunch of other stuff that has kept me busy... and I had lost interest for a little bit. But I found an inspiration song. So, yeah! W00T! Review, please! CC is welcome, flames are not. :)**


	24. Fiery Light

Chapter 24 – Fiery Light

"_Desperate, I will crawl  
Waiting for so long  
No love, there is no love.  
Die for anyone  
What have I become?" - The Diary of Jane, Breaking Benjamin_

Adellia's fury was no lessened by the beast's words, but she lowered her arm.

The beast bent over and picked up Isabella's body. Then he turned towards the lake, stepping into the water one foot at a time. The water seemed to approach him eagerly, without caution, enveloping both of them.

Ilana wanted to go to Isabella; wanted to stop the monster, but something inside held her back. Instead, she just watched as the beast went deeper and deeper into the water, until it lapped around his waist, and caressed Isabella's cold and limp hand.

The beast strode farther in, and the lake became violent, the waters becoming more and more turbulent, until it was crashing over their two bodies, running down in streaming rivulets. Isabella's blood dripped into the water, turning it a bright orange.

Ilana was watching the water, but from the corner of her eye, she saw the fury rise in Adellia's face. Steam rose from the rocks around her feet, such was her rage. "Never," she muttered, and raised her arm, pointing at the rocks above the beast's form. A thin beam of angry red light shot from her fingernail, hitting the rocks. A rumbling noise was heard, and the rocks in the roof began to fall around the beast, not quite hitting their mark.

Large waves were thrown around him and Isabella's body, becoming redder and redder.

A soft voice seemed to fill the cavern with a hushed song.

"_The Queen bade the king_

_make her a ball of fire,_

_for he held within his grasp,_

_all of her desire._

_The King refused this joy,_

_though she wept and plead_

_for him to not be cruel;_

_though she threatened him with death._

_But even such a threat as this_

_could not sway his choice,_

_and so she silenced him,_

_and she stole his voice._

_The prince lives alone now,_

_in his castle made of stone._

_So he must live a thousand years,_

_so he must atone._

_There is no other solution_

_but that she with the fiery light_

_bring him from the darkness_

_and end his tortured night."_

As the last words of the rhyme echoed over the cavern, a huge gaping hole appeared in the roof, letting in the swirling red clouds outside, and the piece missing fell down, straight onto the beasts head. The clouded red waters fumed around the place where the beast had stood.

Adellia crowed triumphantly, her whole body swirling in a red mist. "FINALLY! MY REVENGE IS COMPLETE! I HAVE WON!" Her cackling laugh broke off as a rumbling echoed through the whole cavern. The stone floor shook, and turned a burnished copper-red.

"BUT AT WHAT PRICE?" Came a booming voice from all around them.

Adellia's rage dissipated instantly, and she looked around the space, fear etched on every one of her beautiful features.

Ilana gathered her legs to her chest, terrified. Where was Duncan? Was he hurt? Her thoughts were blocked out by another rumbling. The water in the lake was now foaming, and the waterfall had stopped running. All the water was being sucked in a whirlpool, where the beast had been standing.

And then the ground under Adellia's feet gave way. She screamed as she fell, her wings flapping uselessly. She was swallowed up, and the ground reformed over the opening in which she had fallen.

And then the air was thick with fog, and voices echoing over the ages, from a thousand years past.

_"Tristan! Help me!"_

_"Today, you are king."_

_"You have one last chance. Be by my side as king, or suffer the consequences. Your whole kingdom will suffer with you."_

_"You no longer hold me captive. I am whole again. Ariona's death will no longer haunt me."_

Ilana shielded her eyes from the bright light that began to illuminate the cavern. She peered past her arm at the sight, squinting. The water was no longer in the lake; it was gone. Instead, it swirled around the place where the beast had stood in a whirlpool of reddish-orange light. And out of the light, two green eyes gazed piercingly at Ilana.

A flash of brilliance illuminated the cavern, and it felt like everything was crumbling underneath Ilana's feet. She shut her eyes tight against the light.

Several long moments passed; moments that were spent in silence. Then, slowly, Ilana opened her eyes. The cavern was gone. In its place was a magnificent receiving room, with large windows on every side. Bright, golden sunlight washed on them from outside. And standing a few feet away from her was Isabella, her dress torn and tattered, her face covered in dirt _**but she was alive!**_

Standing beside her was a young man with black hair and piercing blue eyes. He smiled sheepishly at Ilana. He was wearing nothing but a pair of tattered trousers.

The two of them were standing in front of an overturned table. Torn wedding decorations littered the ground. A few feet away, Duncan lay in a crumpled heap. He groaned, and moved, signaling that he was alive. Alive!

The tiled floor was strewn with food that had long since rotted. An old gnome trotted over to where Isabella and the young man were standing in silence. He pumped the young man's hand vigorously. "You did it, sire!" He declared joyfully. "You did it!"

"Thank you, Gilmo," the voice sounded like it hadn't been used it years. "But I have done nothing."

"Oh, yes, you have!" Gilmo replied vigorously. Then he turned to Isabella. "And you've done so much for us, as well! Ever so much! We are free! All of us, we are free!" and with a whoop that sounded like an avalanche, Gilmo jumped up and ran around the room three times. Then he ran out the door, yelling in delight.

**-**

I looked around myself, a little in awe. I was holding my stomach where the wound had been, but there was nothing but a hole in my already-tattered dress. I had vague recollections of fire, water, and being held in strong arms, but I couldn't remember any of it.

Standing beside me, the young man I had seen in the cavern smiled a small half-smile.

I was confused when the gnome thanked me. What had I done? I'd died… I was sure I'd died. I could recall the pain, and I winced in memory.

_Tristan_… yes, that was the young man's name. He looked at me with concern, and I took a step back, not knowing how to react.

"What… what happened?" I looked around the great hall. Pillars adorned the sides, overlooking part of a forest. From this distance, I could see the village where I'd lived, and I saw even my mother, standing in front of our door, watching me. I knew she was watching me.

"Isabella!" I turned as Ilana rushed me, crushing me to her chest, weeping like a newborn. Her eyes were red, her nose running, and her face dirty. But I kissed her. I was so happy to be alive, and with my sister.

"Are you all right?" I asked her, looking at her face carefully.

"Me? You were shot! Are _you _okay?"

I thought about that question for a moment, before nodding slowly. "I think so," I replied. "I feel like all of me is here." That sentence felt right. Yes, all of me was there.

"Who are you?" Ilana asked Tristan.

He bowed, his bare chest glinting in the morning light. "I am Tristan, King of Alaysia," he replied.

"Alaysia?" Ilana repeated. She turned to me. "Wasn't that what our country used to be called?"

I nodded. "How long?" I asked, turning to him.

"A thousand years and more," he replied, his face ashen at the thought.

A groan came from not far off, and Duncan stood, covered in rubble and dust, but alive like the rest of us. He had a cut of his forehead, and was limping badly, leaning on his left foot, but he seemed to be generally all right. He skirted the long, overturned table with wedding streamers, and approached us.

I turned to Tristan. "You need to tell us now," I said.

"A thousand years ago, Adellia ordered me to marry her," he said without preliminaries. "I refused. I was arrogant, and spiteful, but I was also in love with another woman, and wanted to marry her. Adellia threatened to kill me, but I did not fear death. The day of the wedding, when I was to marry Ariona, Adellia showed up and killed my bride, my father, and the whole wedding party. She turned my subjects into mythical animals, and me into the beast you saw. But every enchantment must have a means of being broken; it's a rule. So she made up a rhyme; a prophecy, that was supposed to come to pass. But she butchered innocent babies for a hundred years. All of them with red hair. I had to find the one with a fiery light, not just in looks, but in appearance, and only her blood could heal me. But I wasn't going to let her die. I had resigned myself to my fate long ago. When I saw you, though, I found myself thinking that there might be a way around it."

He looked at me, his face tender. "I wish there was a way to fix all that."

I smiled ironically. "My father isn't from this country," I said. "He emigrated."

Tristan laughed musically. "Well, that figures, then," he said. "She would have no jurisdiction outside of this country, and she ignored it after a hundred years."

"I'll kill you!" Duncan hissed, approaching the three of us.

"No you will not!" I declared, planting myself in front of him. "You already killed me once; I'm not going to give you the chance to try again."

He winced. "Not you!" He cried hoarsely. "Him!"

"Tristan has done nothing to you," I replied. "He has only wronged me, and Ilana. You were only along for the trip because you are a man."

Duncan's eyes widened. "I had planned on asking you a question after your fifteenth," he said softly, his accented voice thick.

I raised an eyebrow. "You never paid me any mind until that point," I replied. "You only thought of that just now because you were not completely blind, and you could see how – previously – I had an attachment towards you. But I can assure you that that attachment no longer exists. So get off your high horse and act like a decent human being for once."

He said nothing, but instead limped away. I have not spoken to him since, though I do know that he married. Apparently, though, the relationship fell apart after she found him in bed with another woman.

I turned to Ilana. "Do you want to go home?" I asked. She nodded. "I'm so tired of all of this. I've had enough adventure to last me forever."

I smiled. "Me, too. Let's go home." I turned to leave with her.

"Isabella?" I turned as Tristan called my name. "Any chance that you would embark on one last adventure?"

**AN: OMG, I am such a doofus! I had half this chapter done already, and I did nothing with it. I had it done for MONTHS! Does that not make me a doofus? Okay, so story is back on, and there's one last chapter to go. Then it will be DONE, and I can not worry anymore about it. There. That feels final (almost). Anways, R&R, please! CC is welcome, flames are not.**


	25. Epilogue: One Last Journey

Chapter 25 – Epilogue: One Last Journey

"_Please take care of me._

_This is a message from your heart,_

_your most devoted body part,_

_taking blood and making art." – Kina Grannis, Message from Your Heart_

Lena and Paul sat on my lap, waiting with bated breath for the next sentence in the story, held open on my lap. "And then, suddenly, the monster was gone, and the girl was left standing beside a young man in a beautiful palace. And everything was alright, then."

The story was the same every night, but every night the twins begged for more. Lena's wide eyes grew wider at every turn of the story, and as the final words rang out, she would close her eyes and sigh peacefully.

Paul made an explosion sound then. "But then the ground blew up!" He declared, jumping up and down on the bed, waking his sister.

"Mommy!" Lena screamed, burying her head in my hair. "Don't let Paul blow me up!"

"Sit down." I ordered. Paul sat, but he was beaming from ear to ear.

I put the twins to bed then, and tucked them in.

"Goodnight," I said.

"'Night, Mommy," Lena smiled, and she blew me a kiss. I caught it and pressed it to my cheek, like I did every night. She clapped once, and snuggled under her covers.

Paul smiled and said, "I wanna blow stuff up."

"Not tonight," I whispered, and kissed his forehead. Then I left the room, closing the door only partway, to let a little of the light in the hallway filter into their room.

Tristan met me at the base of the stairs. "How are they?" He asked, a supercilious smile on his face.

"Same as always," I replied, kissing him. "Lena wants to be a fairy princess, and Paul wants you to buy some gun powder."

Tristan chuckled and took my hand. He led me to the balcony, where the sun was setting, and we watched as it made its final journey for the day, knowing that the next morning would be another journey, full of new and exciting adventures.

"Do you miss her?" I asked, and he knew who I meant.

He stroked my hair, and kissed my forehead. "Sometimes," he said. "But that kind of love is fleeting."

I frowned.

"Hey," he murmured, and I raised my head to look at him. "I love you more than life itself. You are everything to me."

I smiled. "Right back at you," I said, and kissed him.

When he broke the kiss, he gestured to the sky, and I saw a rocket fire into the air, from the direction of the village. It exploded into the night sky, casting balls of coloured light everywhere. I gasped. "Tristan, it's beautiful!" I whispered in awe.

"You'd think I would forget?" He whispered, kissing me again. "Happy Anniversary."

**AN: I know this one is short, but it's the epilogue. R&R, please. CC is welcome, flames are not.**


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